


Two Worlds, One Choice - Original Version

by erullisse



Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris
Genre: Crossover - Southern Vampire Mysteries + Lord of the Rings + Hellboy II (Nuada), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-14
Updated: 2010-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 48
Words: 475,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erullisse/pseuds/erullisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The red flag waved when Sookie asked Lord Niall if she had any other relatives, and he didn't answer - and when an unknown cousin shows up in Shreveport a few years later she gets an action-packed crash course in Fairy 101 complete with secret worlds, hidden agendas, an unexpected engagement, and an ultimatum that leaves both her and her new cousin choosing between two worlds - and one choice to stay alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bite Me

**Notes** = This story is a no holds barred A/U ROMP set approximately 2 years after Book 8 "From Dead to Worse" that crosses Southern Vampire Mysteries with Lord of the Rings along with a smoking hot dollop of Nuada from HellBoy II thrown in just for foaming-at-the-mouth fun. EVERYTHING I've written here is the farthest thing from canon compliant imaginable, especially in regards to LOTR. Yes - I've read the books, own the movies and even named one of my kids after an elf, but for this piece I just went with the hot dudes in the movies, a whole lotta Google research and a very vivid imagination. An open mind is required.

 ** _NOW FOR THE REALLY IMPORTANT STUFF_**. . . This story HAS NEVER BEEN BETA'D and WILL NOT BE UPDATED, so please take that into consideration when reading - 'cause you're gonna have to wait a little while and use your mousey to find out how it ends. The first section is undergoing an overhaul for plot nit removal and general reduction of Mary Sue Melodrama, and is being beta'd, revamped then reposted as **SINS OF THE SUPERNATURAL – TWOC II**. Feel free to click on over and continue your reading there.

~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~  
Chapter 1 – BITE ME  
~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~

"You pointy eared piece of possum ass!" Grace hurled the exotic cut crystal tumbler across the kitchen, watching in satisfaction as it exploded just above the gorgeous blond man's head. "Louisiana isn't _home_ you stupid moron. I'm going back to South Carolina, and I don't need your permission!"

The elaborate white kitchen, with its dark granite countertops and coffee colored hardwood floors, was littered with the wreckage of the battle being fought within and the young human woman standing in the middle of it screaming couldn't care less. That porcelain skinned picture of masculinity standing across the counter from her was gonna get what was coming to him one way or another, of that his elven ass could rest assured. Amarande Nuada may have started this fight, but by god, Laurel Grace was going to finish it - guaranteed!

"Lasto, Erulissë!" Nuada said impatiently, reaching for the BlackBerry ringing in his pocket. "You will not throw another thing at me! You will shut that putrid little mouth of yours, and you will listen to my words! Nin heniach? Do you understand me?"

"Putrid?" Grace hissed in return, using her mental abilities to send a renewed flurry of glassware streaming across that kitchen at him. "Well at least I speak ENGLISH! Do you know how rude it is to talk to somebody in a freaking language they don't understand?"

With every word she hurled another antique Wedgwood plate at him, using them like Frisbees, actually snickering as Nuada tried desperately to talk on the phone and duck them simultaneously. He was not impressed. "Pedin in naid i aníron, a nin ú-cheniathach!" Nuada snarled, mocking her. "And how dare you call me rude! I am not the one responsible for this situation you now find yourself in. I am the one sworn to your protection, yet you stand there throwing glassware at me!"

"Liar," Grace hissed, and for once, Nuada knew not to argue. He was indeed very much responsible for this particular situation; but after watching Grace pout and sulk around that damn apartment for three days, he'd had enough. Granted, kicking the bedroom door off the hinges wasn't the greatest way to remedy that in retrospect, but it was too late for him to take it back now. Try as he might, Nuada couldn't take back anything that happened to Grace over the past three weeks; but if he was going to be saddled with the unenviable task of holding the little human hostage in this luxury penthouse flat, the least she could do was be civil!

Unfortunately, civility and politeness were the two very last things on her mind at that moment. "Well your sorry ass is sure the one I'm standing here looking at, so that makes you guilty as hell in my book!" Grace growled out viciously, slamming a cabinet door hard enough to crack the glass. "Maybe I should just tear these cabinets down completely . . ."

Nuada stared at her in disbelief, knowing good and well Grace was capable if she wished. "You are tearing Lord Niall's house apart, you ungrateful little human witch!" He snarled back at her, ducking the vintage Waterford crystal goblet that flew past. "You will calm yourself down right this minute and listen to me!"

Glistening eyes now darkened to black by sheer rage spit venom as Grace grabbed a huge crystal vase from the cabinet. "You will go fuck yourself Goldilocks! And if my great-grandfather is the one forcing me to stay here, then he can just flit his fairy ass in here and poof it back together can't he?" Grace was daring Nuada to come around the huge kitchen island where she could put her hands on him, but he knew enough not to. "I am leaving this stupid place! I want my life back! I want my truck and my keys and I want away from you!" she screeched.

Grace finished her sentence by sending that vase straight at Nuada's head, and it actually brushed his hair before exploding into a million pieces against the wall behind him. She watched in satisfaction as he furiously brushed away the fragments of glass that now clung to his clothing, completely unaware that she was not the only one taking in this strange scene.

A pair of cool blue eyes was also taking in every shimmering speck of glass that covered that kitchen, as Eric Northman curiously studied the incomprehensible scene before him: interesting, very interesting! It was quite easy to discern that Grace was pissed off at his mercenary friend to no end; and not only was she having an absolute fit, she actually seemed to be winning! Chuckling to himself, the vampire easily remembered that this was not altogether unfamiliar territory. He'd also been the recipient of similar temper tantrums at the hands of not only this human girl, but her cousin Sookie Stackhouse - although this particular tantrum seemed much more extreme than most. Peeking from the shadows, Eric wondered if she could connect with anything, and what Nuada would do in retaliation if she did.

Eric winced as the next goblet went flying directly at Nuada's face, but his friend caught it with one hand, making it look as effortless as if he were waving goodbye to someone. "Bitch!" Nuada growled at Grace. "You are impossible to deal with!" His entire face had collapsed into a vicious scowl, and Eric could tell his friend was dangerously close to losing control, something he emphasized with his next actions. With no regard for the human's safety whatsoever, Nuada sent that goblet right back at Grace, showering her in glass when it impacted against the cabinet directly above her head. Eric had never seen Nuada's temper get loose from him, but his friend seemed genuinely enraged, and his eyes were actually beginning to show the faintest tinges of red as he glared at Grace across that gleaming sheet of granite separating them.

Expecting Grace to be intimidated, Eric was shocked when she only became more incensed, actually retrieving a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne from the wine rack beside her. He considered the rainbow of broken shards now littering the floor as Grace slammed that bottle on the counter in preparations to throw it at Nuada, and Eric knew it was time to intervene. Stepping from the shadows, the vampire casually leaned in the huge arched opening leading into the kitchen, silently revealing to Nuada that he had arrived, but still quite willing to stay out of it. This was better than watching a mixed martial arts fight on television!

"Na vedui!" Nuada exclaimed in relief when he saw Eric. "You must help me, mellon nín . . . either Erulissë calms down, or I swear to the Vána I intend to kill her."

His desperation and misfortunate made Eric chuckle, but the vampire quickly shifted a pointed look back to Grace, silently telling Nuada to prepare himself, because that human was about to hurl the champagne at him.

"Posto dan, Erulissë! Stop that! You would not dare try to hit me with that!" Nuada growled out, desperately wanting her to recognize the value of the vintage champagne.

Too intent on hurting her guardian to realize they had been joined by a new creature, Grace snarled right back at him in return. "I most certainly would, you arrogant greek-speaking asshole! Either I go or it goes – pick one!"

Nuada's eyes dared her to throw it; and just as it began to slide across that counter, Grace found herself firmly locked in a pair of cold muscular male arms. Confused, she lost her concentration on the terribly expensive bottle of champagne, managing nothing more than to shove it off the counter where it landed on the floor with only a resounding thud against the hardwood. Throwing things was forgotten as she struggled to see who had hold of her, and Grace finally managed to wiggle round far enough to catch a glimpse of her captor.

She did not find the creature she was expecting, and every ounce of color drained from her face, as Grace suddenly realized the very same vampire who drained her dry had hold of her again. Eric Northman had obviously come back to finish Grace off!

***************************************

  
** THREE WEEKS EARLIER: **

The GPS pointed the black Escalade right to the door of Fangtasia, but finding a parking space so its driver could walk through that door turned out to be something else entirely. Obviously, Laurel Grace wasn't the only tourist compelled to visit the hottest nightspot in Shreveport tonight. After twenty minutes of circling, she was ready to snap. Twirling the truck around one more time, Grace surveyed the loaded lot yet again, flatly refusing to sandwich that burly black baby into those tiny little spaces for fear someone might slam a car door into the perfect shiny side of it.

 _"Back in black  
I hit the sack  
I've been too long I'm glad to be back   
Yes, I'm let loose   
From the noose  
That's kept me hanging about  
I've been looking at the sky   
'Cause it's gettin' me high  
Forget the hearse 'cause I never die  
I got nine lives  
Cat's eyes  
Abusin' every one of them and running wild" _

Popping her gum and blasting AC/DC, Grace was indeed back in black as she whipped the obnoxious black truck she drove onto the gravel path leading around to the back lot of Fangtasia. There was more than one way to skin a cat, or so the southern rednecks said, and by god she'd just found it: parking lot heaven! Too bad she didn't have the prerequisite nine lives to go along with that idea, because she was gonna need them before this little bar visit was over!

The beautiful open gravel expanse was nearly abandoned, except for a shiny new red corvette, another black Escalade and a nondescript Chevy. Grace was thrilled, positive no trouble would come from her parking back here. Easing the truck to a halt beside the nearest tree, she took a deep breath, collected her purse and slid out, setting the truck alarm as she did. That little human girl had no idea what she was fixing to get herself into . . . but Grace was certainly going to find out in a hurry.

Things had changed dramatically on earth over the past few years, ever since the Japanese created TrueBlood, a synthetic bottled blood substitute. It had been like a bad dream; the night vampires had appeared on national television, announcing their existence to the world, demanding their rightful place alongside humans in the world. Vampires still couldn't stand sunlight, but they certainly didn't hide themselves once it went down, becoming successful business owners, running bars and clubs all over the place. Grace read all about this newly revealed race on the internet, seeing it on television and hearing something new on the radio nearly every day - vampire rights, vampire politics, vampire attacks.

The last part garnered attention, but she'd never really given it any serious thought. Grace led a very standard life, migrating from the computer screen to the beach sand and back again. There was no excitement on the small island she called home, and there certainly weren't any vampires. She's never even seen a real vampire except on television - not that she knew of anyway. Her closest contact to anything even remotely related to the walking dead were the cases of TrueBlood she passed in the convenience store and the occasional episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on TV. All of that was about to change, however, or at least that's what the brochure and Trey Lockhardt's speech said. Walking across the back parking lot of Fangtasia, Grace was now standing within eye sight of the premier vampire bar in Louisiana; and they promised if you were brave enough to come inside, you'd see as many vampires as you could stand.

Heading across that dimly lit parking lot, Grace intended to do just that, although the reality of facing a real vampire hadn't quite hit her - yet. Taking a quick look around as she popped her keys into her purse, Grace realized it was a considerable distance around that loudly thumping building to the main entrance; and her chosen spot had put her into much deeper seclusion than she anticipated. Refusing to give into nerves, she ignored the burnt out overhead light and the clouds covering the nearly hidden moon above her and trudged on.

Cold chills running rampant down a naturally short spine suddenly revealed she was not alone, and a wary look soon revealed her companion. The oddly pale face was very masculine and attractive, covered with a cap of unruly dark hair and glowing chocolate brown eyes that were at that very moment racing over every inch of her in the most peculiar way.

"Hey girl, you a donor?" The huge man asked, the voice oddly cold and emotionless - dead sounding - enough to throw pure chills down the innocent human girl's spine.

"A what?" Grace snapped, honestly having no idea what the man was referring to. Already irritated by the oppressive heat, she now felt her clothes being visually peeled off layer by layer, and she wondered just what the hell he was looking at.

"A donor? A Fangbanger? You are in the parking lot of Fangtasia." He added smoothly, easing ever closer, his feet making no noise even against the rough gravel of the parking lot.

"Well thanks for the info, _brilliance,_ " Grace smarted back sarcastically. "I'd have never guessed where I just drove myself to," she added, rolling her eyes at him.

Having just slipped from the refreshingly cool interior of her truck, Laurel Grace was hot and uncomfortable in more ways than one. Late September in Louisiana was pure steamy, and today had been no different: nearly one hundred degrees at noon. Now ten o'clock at night, it was still eighty-five humid, miserable degrees. Thinking the black tank top and matching capris would be cool and unnoticeable, Grace was finding them to be neither as she stood sweating in the back parking lot of this strange bar while some arrogant man's eyes tried to pry them off her. Irked to no end, Grace revisited the fact that she was stupid enough to let herself get blackmailed into this pointless trip. Not one soul in Shreveport knew her, and when she left in two weeks, no one would ever remember she came - if she ever actually got to leave.

"Hey girl . . . I'm talking to you!" The man snarled roughly, annoyed by her attitude and non-response to his first two attempts at that question. "I asked if you're a donor!"

Slapping her hands on her hips, Grace stopped to stare at this strange newcomer, and he stared right back. The clothing seemed odd for the heat, a long sleeve black dress shirt and snug fitting black jeans leaving little to the imagination, but it was the eyes that garnered the attention. Suddenly finding her heart shoved in her throat, Grace trembled as they ran over her, pure lustful hunger raging in their depths. His tall frame towered over hers in the darkness, and Grace came to the startling conclusion she was in a world of shit. She was trapped in a dark deserted parking lot facing a strange man nearly twice her size who looked very much like he wanted to eat her alive.

Instinct took over, Grace treating the man very much like the rabid dog he was reminding her of: keep eye contact, move slowly, keep your voice low and firm. "I told you: I don't know what a donor is, but I'm not one of 'em." Her soft southern drawl was flat as a deep fried fritter when Grace spoke, gently but firmly telling the strange man she wasn't interested.

Moving so fast the eye couldn't follow, he placed himself in her path, blocking her way to the door. Intending to cuss him for the obnoxious jerk he was, Grace lost her fortitude and her breath the instant she got a closer look at that man's face. Shimmering in the faint light were two perfect white teeth - two long and pointed white teeth - two fangs. This was no man who was hitting on her, it was an honest to god vampire!

 _Holy Shit, this cannot be happening!_ her brain screamed. But the focused glare of evil eyes assured Grace this very much was happening, and she forgot about that bar completely. She forgot about every single thing in the universe outside of that black Cadillac Escalade some fifty feet behind her and how to get her stupid southern self back into it. This whole idea of visiting a vampire bar could go straight to hell. Sending silent prayers pouring to the heavens, Grace promised if she got out of here alive, she'd never set foot anywhere near another nightclub. Matter of fact, she'd never leave South Carolina again!

Unfortunately, from the looks of that vampire, Grace wasn't gonna be leaving anytime soon, because his actions were becoming more animalistic by the moment. Scenting the air, he literally quivered in anticipation, eyes glazing over with pure blood lust, almost as if he'd been drugged by some unseen scent emanating from her very body.

"Fairy . . .it can't be possible," he murmured under his breath.

"See here friend . . ." Grace answered, praying her voice wasn't shaking like her insides were. "You must have a bulb burnt out up there somewhere because I'm not a fucking fairy, or a donor, or anything else you're looking for! I'm just a very stupid human in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now you just take your scary self away! I'm leaving right now, and you don't ever have to see me again." As terrified as she was, Grace was also getting downright pissed off. Going to a bar was supposed to be fun, not life-threatening!

That vampire was easing continually closer to her, the frightening gleam in those now blackened eyes glowing brighter by the second. How was Grace to know that the more angry and panicked she became, the more pheromones she gave off, and the stronger that alluring scent oozing from her pores became?

"You smell so good . . . so delicious and warm . . . fruity . . . fairy," he oozed seductively, and Grace thought she'd throw up. The Versace for Woman was definitely going in the trash when she got back to her room!

Adrenaline was slowly replacing fear with fury, and, as was typical for Grace, she let her mouth do the talking when her ass should have been walking. "Why don't you go buy yourself a bottle? They sell it at the mall; or better yet, why don't you just bite my ass?" Grace smarted off at him sarcastically.

"Oh, I don't want perfume little lady," he growled, those ravenous brown eyes sliding down her throat, "but I'm damn sure going to bite you!"

Her eyes flew wide with fear, but Grace would never be given the chance to scream. The vampire moved so fast she wasn't even aware of his motion; and he was on her before she took her next breath. A huge cold hand clamped over her mouth, grinding her lips back against her teeth with enough force to make her taste blood, while the other hand found her throat, closing it. She instinctively struggled against the lack of air, but her eyes dimmed as the darkness quickly swallowed her, and unforgiving gravel tore at her skin as he clutched her in his arms and drug her into the darkness.

The farthest edge of the parking lot was much darker, and when he finally released his grip, she folded to the ground. Caleb Serrano might be a newly turned vampire, but even he could tell this human was different. The most enticing whiff of fairy scent traced from her skin and flowed through her veins, drawing his fangs from his mouth, glazing his eyes with pure blood lust and reducing him to nothing more than a feral creature of the night, ready to claim his prey. He was licking his lips when her eyes began to flutter open again, but the fist he planted in her face as he flung his massive form on top of her crumpled body instantly closed them again.

Ravenous from the very smell of her breath, he fell on her with wild abandon, sharp fangs quickly sinking into the soft warm flesh of her neck. Caleb bit her again and again and again, greedily tearing at her neck and shoulder as he began to feed, determined to gorge himself on her blood. That tantalizing thick coppery liquid soon covered them both, seeping from vicious tears in her flesh to stain the ground, and it only served to push him farther into the frenzy that held him. Deep, primal growls of satisfaction soon purred from his very soul as he bit and licked her, nursing at the wounds, giving himself fully to this strange thing that was being a vampire.

This was the exact reason he asked to be turned - to experience the raw animalistic nature of existence - and what better quarry could he have chosen for his first kill than a human touched by the fey? It was a dream now realized, and he intended to savor every second of it . . . right along with her blood.

***************************************

Caleb thought he had done something unbelievably unique in discovering a human that bore the faintest scent of fairy, but inside Fangtasia, another set of fangs also stood poised to pierce the flesh of a fey touched human . . . although the circumstances involved were quite a bit different.

The unique smell of Sookie Stackhouse was enough to drive Eric Northman into a frenzy at times, and while the thousand year old vampire always remained firmly in control of himself, that did not mean that he was unwilling to freely indulge in everything the luscious buxom body his human girlfriend could provide; and right now, it was providing plenty. The vaguest hint of fey, mingled with the scent of that Victoria's Secret tangerine lotion Sookie slathered herself in daily, grew more tantalizing the hotter she got - and Eric's personal goal was to see if he could make her catch fire.

The casual lie of wanting to show her something on his office computer had flowed freely from Eric's lips, but once that office door closed, he locked it. There was most certainly something in this room he wanted to show her, but it had absolutely nothing to do with email. Reaching a cool hand to the newly installed dimmer switch, he reduced the office light to a bare glow, knowing that Sookie would never imagine him doing such a thing – and she didn't.

Twirling round to face him, Sookie worried that there was a problem with the power, but the instant she caught sight of that predatory glint in his eyes, she knew this was anything but. Her face eased into a gentle smile as the cool blue eyes of the powerful vampire she called her boyfriend intentionally caressed every inch of her body. That simple gaze was enough to make her breath catch, and Sookie trembled as he crossed the room, her own eyes beginning to smolder as he took her face in his hands.

Eric's mouth was possessive when it claimed hers, and his touch was smooth and seductive as he began to explore her flesh. Sookie enjoyed their increasingly wild sexual trysts, but she had to be treated delicately or she would not respond. Eric knew this, and he was thrilled to comply. Exploring every inch of her lips with his, he teased her mouth open with his tongue as his hands came round to cup her bottom, pulling Sookie against him. She was hardly aware when Eric scooped her up, lifting her until her feet no longer touched the floor, and a satisfied sigh was her only protest as he guided her legs around his waist. Cradling her against him, Eric made his way over to the desk, easing her onto it as he began to aggressively rub against her. Sookie was wearing yet another of those short little dresses she knew he was fond of, and Eric used it to his advantage, one hand ghosting up her thigh while the other began to pull that plunging neckline even lower.

"Eric, what are you doing?" she said through a giggle, knowing perfectly well what he was hoping would happen here.

"I'm going to make you forget that headache you've been complaining about for the past two days," he murmured, already nibbling down the curve of her neck. "Don't you know sex is the best thing for that?"

"We are not going to have sex on this desk," she answered, playfully pushing against the expanse of black silk stretched across his muscular chest, even as she tilted her head to allow him better access.

"I bet I can talk you into it," he countered seductively, nipping the edges of her collarbone as he shoved that slip of a dress all the way up to her hips.

"Eric," she warned, automatically writhing against him, "my head is about to explode. You can't really think we are gonna do this!"

Her protest died on her lips as Eric's hand slid into her panties, the other hand pulling her bra down to free a plump and enticing breast. "Do what?" he asked innocently, nuzzling his face against that creamy white flesh.

That vampire knew Sookie loved this, and he played his position well. While a hand with centuries of experience began to deliver well placed strokes of torment, the gentle rub of his cheek against her chest gave way to seductive licks, then fiery kisses as his mouth began to wander possessively. Eric took careful note of every subtle moan, the way her hands had now found their way into his hair, the gentle motion of her hips as she nudged against him. When she whispered his name and shuddered, he knew she was ready. Pausing just long enough to lock eyes with her in an adoring gaze, Eric bared his fangs, then sank them to the hilt in a beautiful ripe breast.

Typically, that action would have reduced Sookie to a writhing, quivering participant to anything he suggested, but tonight it had quite the opposite effect. While Eric was expecting her to quiver with pleasure and beg him for more, she actually jerked her hand from his hair and clamped it over her mouth, almost as if she intended to be sick. Sook?" he asked with concern, drawing his mouth away and quickly replacing her clothing.

The beautiful blue eyes that met his concerned stare were clouded with confusion. The headache that had been tormenting her for days had suddenly increased tenfold, rendering enough pain to make her feel physically ill. Tolerating strong mental images and hearing other people's thoughts was a daily inconvenience to Sookie because she was a telepath, but the wild feelings now crashing over her were something entirely different - something she'd never felt before – and she did not know how to decipher them.

Clutching her head, Sookie strained to sit up, grateful for Eric's help as those steely arms wrapped around her to assist. Just as he had noted, Sookie had been feeling odd for the past several days. A strange feeling nagged at the far reaches of her mind that she couldn't quite grasp, almost as if something very powerful was drawing closer and closer with every minute that passed. For two days straight it seemed as if something . . . or someone . . . had been trying desperately to connect with her mind and as she sat fighting to calm herself on the edge of that old wood desk, it finally did.

In less than a millisecond, the connection became complete, staggering Sookie to the point of making her whimper in pain. It was the equivalent of taking a jolt of lightning to the brain – the power of fairy blood combining with the power of mental telepathy – searing a permanent mental conduit between two human girls who had never met, but had so very much in common.

Fighting against the dizziness and nausea that washed over her, Sookie fell forward into Eric's arms just as Grace got pounded into the gravel outside, and Eric wondered if she was going to die. "Sookie, what's wrong? What's happening to you?" He demanded, taking in the stunned face now devoid of color and terrified expression.

"She's dying!" Sookie retched out, fighting back tears as she clung to him for support.

Staring at her in stunned disbelief, Eric grabbed her by the shoulders and forcefully shook her. "Who?" he demanded. "Tell me! Who is dying . . . and where?"

Sookie honestly did not know, and her overflowing eyes darted frantically around the room as she struggled to make sense of the wild array of sensations and images tearing through her mind. The girl in her mind was no one she had ever seen before . . . but that gravel. Her eyes flew to Eric's as she cried out in horror. "Behind the bar – over in the corner! There's a girl . . . he's killing her!"

Without another word, Eric jerked Sookie off that desk and plopped her down on the couch, then tore open that door. Screaming for Pam to get in his office and take care of Sookie, he raced for the back exit. As the owner of Fangtasia and ruling Vampire Sheriff of Area 5, Eric Northman was a very powerful vampire . . . one of the most powerful vampires in all of Louisiana in fact. The towering lean frame of a former Viking left no doubt to his strength, while stunning soft blue eyes and shoulder length blond hair kept him well within the good graces of the ladies. Eric commanded attention - and he demanded to be obeyed.

Even the remote idea that a girl was being killed in his own parking lot enraged him, and Eric knew if that was indeed what was happening, the one responsible stood an excellent chance of dying themselves . . . or at least suffering a good bit. There were plenty of humans willing to be with vampires - "Fangbangers" as they were affectionately called - and there were also plenty of donors – humans more than willing to let vampires feed on them. If a girl was truly being attacked, then obviously a human said no, and in Eric's territory the word no was to be respected. The vampires had waded through enough problems with the law enforcement community of Louisiana, and there were very specific rules in place intended to prevent further problems. Eric Northman wouldn't tolerate them being broken.

Ripping open the back door of Fangtasia, Eric paused for a split second beside his gorgeous new red corvette, resting a hand on the freshly waxed hood as he looked around. Eyes perfectly accustomed to seeing in the darkness revealed nothing, so closing them he scented the air, listening intently. Muffled voices and the faintest oddly enticing aroma wafted from the farthest back corner of that lot, and Eric tore off in that direction, praying to Pagan Gods he'd be in time and the police wouldn't be showing up tonight.

Moving faster than a mortal eye could follow, Eric "shadowed" - crossing the entire parking lot in seconds, and when he snapped to a halt even his ancient eyes couldn't believe what they saw. An older looking man with long blond hair dressed in an impeccable dark business suit stood over the crumpled form of a limp human, a powerful hand of alabaster flesh clutching a huge vampire by the throat, white lightning flying from sea green eyes colder than the depths of the ocean itself. Eric knew that creature was the Fairy Lord Niall Brigant himself, and if that man was somehow involved with what he perceived was a dead human on the ground, the police paled in comparison to the trouble he was in.

"What the hell has happened, Niall?" Eric demanded loudly, his gaze carefully shifting to take in the Fairy Lord's two unusual companions, and instantly finding their threatening supernatural eyes locked on him. The first was an imposing silver haired warrior whose body posture alone clearly revealed his distaste for this situation, while the obviously important creature beside him was dressed in elaborate floor length robes, and unbelievably wore an ornate platinum crown atop his head. Their presence made Eric shudder. He could only guess that these were some of Niall's relatives, and that made this horrible situation so very much worse.

Snapping the neck of the vampire in his hand with a simple flick of his wrist, Niall cast the mangled body aside, ignoring Eric and turning his attentions to the crumpled human on the ground before him. Oblivious to his ridiculously expensive custom tailored suit as he sank to his knees in that nasty gravel, gently reaching for the deathly pale face of the female human laying there. Grace certainly looked dead, and he prayed they were not too late. "My great-grandchild cannot die!" Niall's beautiful voice sounded, pleading for her life to the two standing with him. "Brother, please . . . you are a healer . . . we must find some way to save her!"

Lord Elrond quickly stepped forward for a closer look, the pale face and absence of obvious breath telling him they may already be too late. Leaving Grace to his brother, Niall was instantly on his feet, leveling a bone-chilling glare at the former Viking, cold eyes glistening with cold fury against the dim light as he spoke. "I was taking tea with my brother, only to find myself interrupted by the fact that your subordinate decided to feed on my great-grandchild!" He spat out, the very air trembling against the Fairy's anger.

Eric's face twisted in horror as he absorbed Niall's words . . . surely that fairy could not be serious! Unfortunately for Eric, that Fairy Lord was serious as death itself, and his assumption about that raven haired man at his side was entirely correct as well . . .

Only moments earlier in the pristine Elven Realm, Lord Niall had indeed been taking tea on the southern terrace of Imladris, the magnificent home of his half brother Lord Elrond. Together, the two brothers presented an unbelievably potent combination of powers; and although they were both well over six thousand years old, they remained the best of friends, traveling from realm to realm with great frequency to visit with one another. Up until this fiasco, their day had been most enjoyable. The brothers had shared a fulfilling day in Rivendell, partaking of captivating conversation, enticing food and engaging company all while basking in the magnificent views of the picturesque mountain valley.

This unique pair was descended from the Fey King, Lord Vadimás; but he was long passed now, leaving his son to rule the Fey Realm in his stead. As the older brother and pureblood fairy, Lord Niall was now ruler Nárthea, the magical land of the fairies that included the Fairy Isle of Eternal Youth or Tír na nÓg, and ultimate King of the Fey Realm. His younger and only sibling, Lord Elrond, was second in line for the throne, but he had chosen a very different path for his life. Elrond was only half fairy. The other half of his line was elf - the result of their amorous father's coupling with a beautiful elven princess - and he had always preferred to live his life among the elven kind. Elrond enjoyed the more stringent moral laws of their society and the peaceful environment the elven realm provided, and as he now sat across from his brother, Lord Elrond was a powerful ruler in his own right, Master of the pristine elven valley known as Rivendell.

As darkness fell and day faded into night, the imposing pair settled for tea in Elrond's favorite flower surrounded courtyard, and Niall began telling his brother about the recent antics of his human descendents. As always, Elrond had listened patiently, carefully concealing his frown of displeasure. While elves were one of the fey species, sharing many of the same physical traits as their closest kindred - the fairies - they held to very different moral and ethical guidelines. It might be a commonplace fairy activity, but Elrond still found it extremely distasteful that his nephews had wildly pleasured themselves with scores of human women, reproducing mixed breed human children at random.

The elves believed that the sharing of physical relations constituted a moral commitment, a mate was taken for life, and that life itself was sacred. Those were lessons Elrond mused that those two loutish boys of Niall's could certainly have benefited from being taught! Unfortunately, those boys thought nothing of the sort, nor did the various other fey species. From pixies to water sprites and gnomes, all the other fey were well known for their indulgence in pleasures of the flesh, and they didn't honestly seem to care what form that flesh might happen to appear in. That striking, inherent difference was the reason the elves kept themselves secluded in their private elven realm, while all the other fey varieties ran rampant in Nárthea; and it was an arrangement that had worked out perfectly for many millenia. Oh yes, occasionally a few snuck over to visit from time to time, but the rules were well known – wander where you will, but the elf world is off limits. The fey could wander anywhere they wanted anyway. Physical boundaires were of no consequence to them, because in addition to their various magical abilities, every fey species possessed the most unique and useful talent: the ability to "trace", or transport themselves from place to place with no more than a thought.

While Elrond strongly encouraged his subjects to refrain from using that unique ability, Niall did no such thing; and his twin sons Fintan and Dermot had frequently traced themselves to the earth realm to reap the bountiful pleasures it provided – and pleasure themselves they did. While vampires found the scent of fairies simply tantalizing, humans found fairies to be physically stimulating on a nearly irresistible level. Neither brother had hesitated to take advantage of the hypnotic quality they possessed over them, blatantly reveling in the arms of various human women without shame or remorse. It was a revolting thought to Elrond, but he honestly could not blame them. Niall himself had never restrained from partaking of human based pleasures, and the very twins themselves were half human!

Raised in Nárthea as fairy royalty, both boys had lived spoiled lives of luxury for centuries, wallowing in their lust and self gratifying habits. Fintan, the brighter, more beautiful blond haired twin, had impregnated at least two humans, probably more. Shameless in his actions, he felt no responsibility whatsoever, vehemently forbidding Lord Niall from contacting his descendents when he became aware of them. That objection was nullified by his unfortunate death some six years prior; and from that moment on, the fairy lord had made it his business to track these blood relatives down. Well aware that both twins participated in these extracurricular activities, Niall also sat Dermot - the darker and quite mean spirited twin – down, finding himself not the least bit surprised to hear his other son confess to having at least one earthly descendent too. Now sitting across from Elrond at that courtyard table, Niall knew of three great-grandchildren - one of whom was already dead - and he worried there were more.

"And what of Sookie these days?" Elrond asked politely, knowing the young human descended from Fintan was a handful. She was forever tormenting her assigned fairy-godmother, Claudine, with some perplexing new problem or injury, usually at the hands of that unappealing horde of vampires she insisted on involving herself with.

"She perplexes me brother!" Niall exclaimed impatiently, gesturing with his hands, the fairy always animated when he spoke. "Her relationship with that Louisiana vampire deepens by the moment, and I do not care for it. Those blood drinkers simply confound me with their expressionless faces and blank minds. Surely such a beautiful and vibrant girl does not intend for that Viking vampire to turn her into a nightcrawler, and spend the rest of her days in some coffin at his beck and call!"

A handsome elven face eased into a frown at those words, for Elrond had never considered such a possibility. It was a very valid concern. Determined to keep the mood bright, he chose to change the subject, hoping it would be a happier one. "Tell me of the other girl, Grace. Have you seen her of late?"

Enjoying the lingering scent of flowers hanging on the still night air, Niall pursed his face as he began to speak of his third and most recently discovered descendent. Also a female, this girl was a bit older than Sookie, and descended from Dermot. Niall had only become aware of Grace some two years ago, when she'd been in a car accident; and while he'd watched her very closely since that time, the fairy couldn't get a firm idea of what she was like. Grace perplexed him, like a puzzle he could not quite seem to fit the pieces of.

"Yes, I have seen her. It is not like she is ever hard to find! Never before could I imagine any creature lounging beneath the suns rays the way that girl does, yet she stretches herself out beside the ocean for hours on end, like a contented house cat, so pleased she is to be there! If her flesh becomes any darker, I do believe the girl will become lost in the shadows themselves."

Elrond smiled softly. Having a rather dark complexion himself, and holding a firm love of the water, the elf lord found himself glad to know that one of their bloodline could take time to relax in such a simple way. It pleased him. "Certainly Grace does more than offer herself to the sun, brother. What else? What do you sense from her; have you gotten close enough to read her thoughts? Does the girl possess the same traits Sookie does?"

His words brought a slight cloud over Niall's face, an obvious sign that the fairy did not entirely care for the question being posed, or perhaps that he did not care for the answer itself. To his knowledge, the dark haired girl showed no outward signs of inheriting any fairy traits. It was possible for them not to manifest in a child, just as Sookie's brother Jason had not been blessed with any unusual gifts or powers; but somehow deep inside Niall knew that was not the case with Grace. Powerful magic ran deep through the aura of Dermot - the dark twin being much stronger than the light twin - and he had every idea Grace was something quite magical indeed. She simply had not revealed it yet.

"Nothing," Niall finally answered. "While her life has become much livelier since her father passed and she increased her circle of companions, I still see nothing from her but the most peaceful existence imaginable. It is nothing to compare with the raucous behavior of that blond vampire temptress living in Bon Temps!"

"And is that such a terrible thing?" Elrond posed gently, knowing his brother expected wild behavior from each and every one of his descendants – it came with the fey blood. There was a smugness in his voice, because Elrond knew he had turned out to be the exception to that rule. He relished every second of his serene immortality here in Rivendell, and he found the idea that Grace leaned more toward his portion of the heritage quite refreshing. One could hope!

"Her existence is not a terrible thing, but it is certainly boring; and you know as well as I do, fairies are never, ever boring." Lord Niall answered with a smirk. His comment was a tiny insult directed as a tease toward his brother's elf blood. Elves were so damn uptight! They should live a little – get out and play sometimes!

"Yes, but I stay out of trouble, which is something that can very rarely be said of you!" Elrond reciprocated. They could sit here and trade hidden barbs all night – the two never tired of it – never.

"Hmmph!" Niall snorted softly. "Grace in trouble? I'd have to see it to believe it! It took everything I had just to get her away from that beach."

Elrond frowned at the revelation, those dark eyebrows raising in consternation, knowing Niall had once again interfered in one of the human's lives. He tapped his fingers on the smooth stone top of the table, just waiting for him to confess. It came reluctantly.

"Very well brother, you have caught me. I admit, I have done some slipping through the shadows - placed a few whispers in the ears of a mortal or two - but is only in the better interest of Grace. I wish her to get off that sand and see her live her life! And I wish to be a part of that life. I want her to meet her family - her real family - to get to know me, and you. Sookie is not even aware of your existence. It is my dream to show them everything that is the beauty and wonder of the fey world, to share my wealth and my knowledge with them both!"

"You tread on dangerous ground, brother," Elrond scolded. "Humans have no place in our world and you know it well as I do. And just where have you sent Grace off that beach sand to exactly? Or can I surmise that you have somehow managed to manipulate enough weak human minds to trick her into an actual trip to that state - What is it? - Louisiana? Tell me this is not what you have done!"

"It most certainly is!" Niall answered with no remorse. "And you have no idea the pains I have put into planning this! After Grace has a few days to settle herself, she is planning to meet with one of her uncles . . . only it is not her uncle that she will be meeting . . . it is myself. I have taken your advice and decided that it is time for me to speak with the girl. My time for hiding in the shadows silently watching her is over, and if she accepts me, then I shall see to it that she meets Sookie as well. They have a tremendous amount in common, and I hope the fey blood they share will somehow allow them to recognize one another. While I do not believe Grace possesses the mind power we do, I know that Sookie is strong - at least for a mortal. We can sense another of our kind instinctively, so what is to say that they might not as well? They do share the same blood."

"My advice was never for you to lie to that human girl and trick her into traveling to Louisiana, no matter what your intentions once she arrived!" Elrond countered incredulously. "You have no shame, do you brother? You are tricking your own great-grandchild into meeting you? Why not just walk across the sand and say hello?"

Niall suppressed a snicker - no - he had no shame, and getting Grace to Louisiana had been a very fun little game to play. He had honestly enjoyed it. "It only seemed logical that her father's relatives would desire to see Grace and reconnect with her after his death," Niall answered smoothly, "and it is not my fault those relatives just so happen to be from the very same place as Sookie. Why should I not take advantage and allow her to meet us both at once? It is a proven fact humans are more receptive to change if they are out of their comfort zone, and I do not believe Grace to be as accepting or easygoing as Sookie. She will take me more readily if she is not in South Carolina on that sand when I first say hello."

"You have always hated the sand, so it is no surprise you would find some reason to get Grace away from it, and it most certainly is your fault that her relatives are from Louisiana - or more specifically, it is your son's libido," Elrond answered quite matter-of-factly. "The fact that both girls originate from the very same place is due solely to the fact that your sons liked to meander off on their human exploits together. For some inconceivable reason, Louisiana just so happened to be their favorite place to hunt for female companionship. Had the couple that adopted Grace not decided to move to South Carolina right after they got her, she and Sookie may very well have grown up together!"

"Yes, and I might have found her a whole lot sooner!" Niall said impatiently. "As it stands, I have wasted years searching, but now I have finally found her and I desire to have us all brought together. I wish to be a part of both of my great-grandchildren's lives, and for them to share in one another's. Is it such a terrible thing of me to wish for such a thing? To offer the fruits of my world to those who are entitled to it?"

Elrond frowned. He could not say that it was, nor could he say that he would not wish for the same if in a similar position. Thankfully, his three children had never thought to involve themselves in such ridiculous mischief so he would never have to contemplate such things, but he sympathized with his brother. Niall valued family more than most would ever give him credit for. Underneath it all, he was truly soft at heart, although it rarely showed. "I begrudge you nothing," he finally answered. "I only hope that this odd trip you have participated in arranging goes as you foresee it."

Those words had no sooner left Elrond's lips that Niall began to foresee something else entirely. The fairy lord had shared a strong mental connection with Sookie from the very moment of her birth, but it had never manifested itself with Grace until she had cried out in pain after being in a car accident. Even now Niall had to concentrate to feel her presence, but in that particular moment, Grace was crying out in pain once again. The beautiful tea cup just being raised to velvety lips shattered, disrupting the quiet revelry of an elven courtyard just as the horrendous images of Grace being torn apart came searing through his mind. In the human realm, his great-granddaughter was most certainly not enjoying her supernaturally planned trip to Louisiana. She was in fact, at that very moment being introduced to one of its less desirable residents, one of Shreveport's infamous vampires. Grace was not on the verge of meeting her cousin for the very first time; she was being tasted for the very first time, being torn apart by a set of vicious fangs intent on drinking fairy blood. Grace was being killed.

Hell bent on saving her, that enraged fairy was on his feet in an instant, one blink transforming his clothing from opalescent robes into his usual earthly attire of a dark business suit as he telepathically shared the gravity of the situation with his brother. Lord Elrond flew from his chair as well, although he had no intentions of altering his appearance – particularly for a lowly blood drinker. The brothers were most familiar with the earth realm and knew these vampires were a nasty bunch, unpredictable and high in numbers. They did not know what they might be facing.

Resisting the urge to call for a complete troop of fairy guardians and possibly start a supernatural war, Niall waited impatiently while Elrond called to the powerful elven warrior who just so happened to be walking nearby. The elf lord's most favored warrior and guard was away on official business, so tonight, he would content himself with that visiting one - the General of the Marchwardens of Lothlórien, Haldir of Lórien. The powerful elf oversaw the protection of Lothlórien from his home in the Marchwarden Camp many miles north of this place in the magical Golden Woods, and it was by sheer fortune that he happened to be in Rivendell that night, visiting for a series of war strategy councils and guard training.

Haldir did not particularly enjoy these visits, ducking away to the sanctity of the peaceful gardens at every possible opportunity. That desire for a quiet respite had let him into the vicinity of that courtyard, and put him within Elrond's line of sight – it also made him available for duty – and he responded to his lord's request instantly. His presence was a powerful one as he came quickly striding across that stone terrace, and both Niall and Elrond prayed to the heavens that the warrior's masterful abilities at rendering death would not be needed before this night was over. "Watch yourselves!" Niall had warned, even as they were fading away, and in under a human second, the supernatural trio from Rivendell was standing in the darkness of the Fangtasia parking lot.   


***************************************

Minutes later, that powerful pointy eared trio was still standing in the gravel, watching with intense interest as Eric Northman hit the ground like a man possessed, frantic pale hands checking Grace's body for a pulse. The human's condition was dire, yet she lived. "She's not dead yet," he exclaimed in relief, "but if this girl doesn't get blood immediately, she will die".

Simultaneously, the entire group stared down their perfect noses at Eric, and frowned. Lord Niall and Lord Elrond were royalty and certainly not willing to share blood with anyone - not even a descendent of their bloodline - and the haughty glare of warning splashed across the strikingly handsome face of that elf warrior left little doubt what he thought of that unexpected news.

"Well do it, Eric!" Niall commanded viciously, impatiently glancing to his side, noting that the vampire he'd tossed aside earlier was slowly recovering. It was an unwelcome interruption to a horrible situation, and one that Lord Elrond was quite willing to dispose of. Intent charcoal eyes quickly revealed a suitable object. With no more than the gentle swish of swirling fabric, that elf lord brushed past the others, effortlessly collecting a discarded piece of metal and slamming it through the downed vampire's chest in one fluid motion.

It was a somewhat unexpected move; and as the unique threesome of pointed eared observers watched with satisfaction as the exterminated vamp disintegrated into black ash, Eric Northman found himself stunned by the dangerous situation he found himself in. Cornered and with no possible escape route, the vampire struggled to keep a clear head, knowing he couldn't possibly get away from three powerful creatures all possessing the ability to instantly transport themselves from place to place, one of which just so happened to still be armed with a piece of rusty metal that could reduce him to ash just as quickly as that other poor fellow.

Thoughts racing, his mind bogged. The very last thing Eric Northman needed or wanted was that fairy lord pissed off at him, and not just because he happened to be dating Sookie. Relations between vampires and fairies had been tenuous for centuries, and all it would take was one very unfortunate accident like this to break the vapor of truce that remained between them. Eric had a terrible premonition if the girl on that ground died, it would do a lot more than ruin his relationship with Niall Brigant. It might very well start a supernatural war.

Visibly distraught, Eric finally answered Niall's demand, the strain in his voice obvious. "I cannot give this girl my blood. If I do, she will turn vampire." He knew the fairy lord would be furious at his answer, and Eric's watchful eyes were carefully trained on the strange men across from him. He might not be able to escape their grasp, but he could promise if they tried to kill him, they were in for one hell of a fight.

"My descendant will never be turned vampire!" Niall seethed in pure venom, that comment very pointed in its meaning that it not only extended to the girl laying on the ground, but to Sookie Stackhouse as well. Glaring at Eric, the fairy's carefully controlled demeanor was beginning to crack, and everyone could see that he was on the verge of an emotional explosion.

Seeking to calm his brother, Lord Elrond placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Worry not my brother," Elrond said firmly, turning to the silver haired warrior. "Haldir, save that human!"

Having silently watched this incomprehensible scene unfold, a look of complete disbelief now washed over that stunned warden's face. Haldir was still trying to digest everything he'd heard and witnessed over the past several minutes. He was here for the protection of those two lords, and last time he checked, that certainly did not extend into some sick act of blood sharing! Unfortunately, this was no time for moral objections or an ethical debate. A lifelong Marchwarden of the Galadhrim, and current General of the Guard to the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel, Haldir was duty bound to obey any order from elven royalty; even if that order extended to the very blood in his veins; so taking a deep breath, he collected himself and prepared to do as he was told.

Quickly kneeling beside Grace, the battle experienced warden assessed her condition with cold military precision, surprised to see she was still alive. Blood was oozing from a vicious neck wound, breathing was shallow and infrequent, but the human stubbornly clung to life . . . and Haldir of Lórien was going to save it. Determined indigo eyes crossed over Grace's broken form to lock gazes with the equally concerned vampire staring back. "This girl needs blood?" Haldir repeated, wanting to be sure he understood what was required of him. Eric nodded. Somehow they had to get blood back into that girl, or she was most certainly dead.

After snorting out a disgusted breath, Haldir quickly reached to the pocket of his thick leather pants, slipping the small blade from its usual place. With no thought or hesitation, Haldir took that razor sharp edge and sliced open the palm of his left hand. Firmly grasping the head of that limp girl in the other, he forced the gaping wound to pallid lips. "Drink girl, and live!" Haldir commanded loudly. He backed up that verbal command with powerful mental telepathy, shoving silent mental orders into a muddled brain stem, telling that oxygen deprived mind to fight its way back to consciousness and respond.

Pried from the oppressive fog that gripped her, Grace somehow managing to crack her eyes open, suddenly looking into the most beautiful face she'd ever seen. Luminescent pale skin glowed in the soft light almost as if lit from within, long platinum colored hair shimmered like silver magic dancing in the darkness, and strange deep blue eyes gleamed like precious jewels as they considered her. In shock from being attacked and delirious from lack of blood, this magical being only made things worse. Grace thought she was dead, and an angel had come to claim her.

"Drink human!" Haldir ordered viciously, demanding to be obeyed. A wretched moan was all Grace could manage in return. Her weakened body did not have the strength, and her clouded mind could not digest what this strange man wanted from her.

Impatient and unsympathetic, Haldir took the firm hand behind her neck and heaved her slight form into a sitting position, catching her in the crook of his arm to steady her. Creative if nothing else, he sucked a mouthful of the blood now pouring from his palm, closed those perfect rosy lips over her mouth, forced her pale lips apart with his tongue, and spit that blood right into her mouth.

"Ni sí nestad gen . . . now drink, adaneth!" He commanded yet again, his mind telling her along with his voice to obey.

Grace instinctively swallowed, but it did little to ease her condition and she felt herself floating away. Determined she would not die, Haldir continued to force his blood into her. The unique transfer was repeated over and over, that beautiful elf putting his mouth over hers and teasing it open with his tongue again and again. It was slow and arduous, and it was not garnering the desired results. While Grace managed brief seconds of lucidity, she was obviously on the verge of death and in need of serious medical intervention.

Niall watched this with growing fury, his relentless glare convincing Eric Northman any location away from that human would be a desirable one. Finally, the fairy lord was unable to contain himself any longer, and quite aggressively cornered Eric up against the nearest tree. Planting himself directly in that vampire's face, his displeasure at this situation came into sharp focus. "If my great-grandchild dies, you die," he told him very matter-of-factly - and Eric believed him. Dating Sookie was not a "Get Out of Jail Free Card" when it came to that human on the ground, and that former Viking was praying to every Pagan God ever dreamed up that weird looking silver haired creature could save her life.

Silently praying to the Valar himself, Elrond watched these things intently. A very powerful and compassionate healer, he desperately wanted to help, but offering his very blood to a human fell far outside the acceptable range of assistance. Running a careful look over Haldir and that pale human in his arms, Elrond hoped the highly acclaimed Marchwarden General was everything Galadriel had proclaimed him to be through their many discussions.

Almost as if aware of his ruler's scrutiny, Haldir suddenly rose from the ground, Grace's body hanging limp in his arms. "Lasto! This is not acceptable!" He announced firmly. "I cannot possibly tend such injuries in this terrible place!"

Interrupted from his anger by those disturbing words, Lord Niall immediately turned his attentions away from Eric, returning them to Haldir and his great-grandchild. "What do you require warden? Name it and so it shall be!"

Silver brows snapped together in consideration of the question. Vampire bites and humans forcibly drained of their blood certainly did not fall within Haldir's area of experience. He honestly had no idea what was required to heal this girl. "These are most unusual circumstances," he finally offered, "the child requires more blood, this wound needs cleaning and binding - care will be required for some time after this night - I know not what advice to give."

An ancient mind so used to readily being handed everything he desired, ran wild in search of options. Taking Grace to Tír na nÓg was certainly undesirable. One could only imagine a human's reaction to waking up after being attacked by a vampire surrounded by the wild collection of various winged and webbed fey creatures that resided there. Human hospitals were simply not acceptable - their care was substandard and not worthy of his descendant. The private research facility he owned was well equipped for medical emergencies - but only for fey species. Savan and the other healers would not know how to properly treat a mere human. Frantically weighing options, Niall became more and more frustrated, finally becoming so furious he began to glow, the fierce fairy light he possessed breaking through his careful veil of concealment slightly as he struggled to calm himself.

Knowing the terrible destruction Niall was capable of should he lose control, Elrond immediately intervened. Stepping to his brother's side, he took control of the situation. "Brother, you told me less than an hour past that your one desire was for your descendents to meet your family and see more of our world. Tonight it shall come to pass. The child shall return this night in my company, and will stay with my people in the elven realm at Rivendell. The doors of Imladris are always open to my family, and to this child they shall be the same. Grace shall remain in the care of the elven people until she is healed."

Hearing his brother's surprising suggestion, tides of welcome relief washed over the ancient fairy's gently wrinkled features, a troubled heart soothed by Elrond's gracious offer. The quiet respite of Elrond's home would be perfect for an injured human.

Unfortunately, Haldir had a very different reaction. Staring at Elrond in stunned disbelief, he purely bristled, not believing even the elf lord himself would consider bringing a human into the reaches of the Elven Realm. His duty was to protect their world, and that obligation extended far beyond one mortal girl. There was no telling the damage such actions could bring; and as inappropriate as it was, he actually questioned the Elf Lord, incapable of comprehending such a ridiculous suggestion. "You intend to bring a human into the Elf Realm? And house her within the very walls of Imladris?"

Turning to face Haldir in the dim light, Lord Elrond passed a strong look of caution in his direction. His word was law so far as that elf was concerned, and that human was his brother's bloodline descendant, which made her distantly related to the elf lord himself! "I am Master of Rivendell, and Imladris is my home! I may invite whomever I chose to be there! And if Grace does not accompany us back, then what exactly would you suggest we do with her?" he growled in irritation.

Haldir stood firm, letting his temper override his manners for a moment. "Leave the human in care of her own kind. If nothing else, let the blood drinkers mind her. His kind wounded her, let his kind tend to healing her!"

His comments were made with the best intentions, but they were certainly the wrong thing to say at that particular moment in time. Lord Elrond's brows snapped together in disapproval, but Lord Niall became completely enraged, genuinely frightening Haldir by throwing scintillating flashes of brilliant white light against the darkness as he raked him with a flesh heating glare. "How dare you suggest such a thing!" he hissed in fury. "Need I remind you, that girl is of my bloodline? I am Lord of the Fey Realm, and my brother is a Lord of the Elf Realm! Our word is law so far as you as concerned, and either you do everything in your power to help her, or you suffer the same fate as Eric Northman!"

Suddenly finding themselves in a very unenviable position, Eric and Haldir exchanged alarmed glances. If that human died, they were both going to be as dead as she was, and if she lived, both men were positive they were going to be in a world of trouble anyway.

They were absolutely correct.


	2. Save the Human

Chapter 2 – Save the Human

Pop. It was a very distinct and unnerving sound: the sound of flesh dissolving into vapor, the sound of a supernatural creature fading into nothing, the sound of an immortal being transporting themselves to another place, or "tracing".

Few things were capable of surprising Eric Northman, but that vampire could do little more than stare in amazement after Haldir collected Grace from the ground then flatly disappeared, tracing back to Rivendell and leaving nothing more than air in their place. That disbelief only increased, when seconds later, Lord Elrond did the exact same thing, and it took Eric a moment of staring at nothing before he realized, that while those other creatures were gone, the fairy lord remained.

Quickly refocusing his attention on the problem at hand, Eric prepared to defend himself, because Lord Niall's attitude toward him had palpably deteriorated now that the others were gone. Lord Elrond seemed to provide much needed stability to his volatile older brother, but without his calming presence, that fairy was throwing tiny lightning flashes again, and Eric wondered what he was about to do. The answer came soon enough.

Just as quickly and easily as the others had disappeared, two new creatures appeared, a strange duo of intimidating looking, ashen faced, blond haired warriors clad in unrelieved black. They did not spare him a glance, but Eric watched curiously as they silently and efficiently collected the human's purse and keys, then swiftly occupied her truck, cranking that Cadillac to life, then driving into the night. Those two creatures were members of the fairy guard, and Lord Niall had summoned them to take care of the collateral damage. He would take care of Eric personally.

Visibly seething while Grace's things were secured, that fairy jumped right back in Eric's face the instant those taillights began to fade, and his snarled message was crystal clear. "You will locate the putrid excuse for a being responsible for creating that rogue monster and you will secure him for my punishment. Are we clear?" Niall spat out in fury, gesturing toward the now ashen puddle of a dead vampire in the gravel.

Eric internally bristled, but remained stone faced, merely nodding politely. He knew better than to argue with Niall when the powerful fairy was in such a state of anger, and it only got worse with every word.

"Not one word will cross your lips about this loathsome occurrence. You will not so much as breathe of my second great-grandchild to Sookie, or I will personally cut your tongue out. Do you understand me?" Niall seethed. "The news of her existence will be delivered by me, and me alone!"

Clenching his teeth until his jaw twitched, Eric's eyes froze with calculating venom as he met the furious gaze of that fairy lord. Demanding retribution was one thing - threatening him was something else entirely – and Eric struggled to remind himself that these were unusual circumstances. The fairy was obviously not in control of his faculties, but if he didn't soon shut up, Eric Northman was going to make him. "I'll find the one responsible, Niall," he answered coolly, "and I agree. Sookie doesn't need to know any of this, but word tends to spread of these things no matter how hard you try to hide them. I'd tell her soon."

"I will tell my great-granddaughter of these things, when I am good and ready," Niall hissed right back, "and there are much more important things for you to be worrying about than when I tell Sookie about Grace - like whether or not Grace is going to live - because if she does not, I assure you Fangtasia will be filled with so many fey you will swear that Armageddon has arrived before I am finished here."

Cold chills tickled Eric's spine at that threat, but he continued to feign calmness. "As always, Niall, I'll do whatever I can to help resolve this," Eric answered, although he honestly wondered if he would strangle on the words. "I'll see to it that the one you want is captured, and I certainly hope that this girl – Grace – recovers."

Niall didn't answer, but the burning flames in his eyes certainly did, silently telling Eric he would see him roasted alive if that human girl died because of this. He never said another word, only passed a final poisonous glare over Eric's body before disappearing himself, leaving Eric standing in that bloody gravel to contemplate his future.

It was quite a contemplation, and Eric took a few minutes to settle himself before returning inside. He was very careful to brush the dirt from his pants, and to rearrange the gravel with his feet so the blood stain was not visible. The entire time, his mind was working, planning out the fabrication he would be selling to Sookie when he walked back through the door. That blonde human might not be able to hear his thoughts, but since they had shared so much blood between them, she had become quite excellent at reading him all the same. Sookie could accurately perceive when he was being untruthful, and she always knew when he was upset. This would not be an easy task.

Steeling himself, Eric headed to the main entrance around front in lieu of the back, bee-lining for the bar to grab a quick bottle of "O" Negative to swig as he strode for the bathroom. There he took a few more moments, washing his hands and combing his hair, making absolutely positive his appearance was not disheveled in any way. Exiting, he motioned for his friend Logan to join him, and when he did, Eric quickly began spewing orders under his breath. Logan was to go in this office with him, and he was to instantly concur with and collaborate any and everything that came out of his mouth. The attractive blond vampire readily agreed, and Logan was on his heels when he opened that door.

Entering his office, Eric was greatly relieved to find Sookie in somewhat better condition that he left her. She was sitting on the couch sipping a beer, while Pam entertained her with wild tales of her past, but the moment that door opened, they both locked Eric down under a curious stare. He met it coolly, acting as if nothing in the world had gone on. "False alarm," he said casually, "there was a girl out back, but she was just talking with a few of the locals. Nothing exciting at all."

Pam's eyes had narrowed as Eric spoke, positive her boss was lying to them, but thankfully Sookie bought it - hook, line and sinker. Her head had nearly exploded after Eric left that office, but thankfully, when the elves took Grace out of the human realm, it had greatly relieved her mental anguish. The headache remained, but she no longer thought she was going to throw up and the wild deluge of emotions had thankfully subsided.

"You sure?" Sookie asked, knowing the images in her mind had seemed so real.

"Positive," Eric answered cheerfully, "just ask Logan. He'd walked out back too for some air. It was nothing, was it?" He passed a pointed look over to Logan, and the other vampire nodded firmly in agreement. This was not the first, nor would it be the last, time Logan would be called on to lie for Eric Northman; but it came with the territory of being a vampire in Shreveport. You did what you had to do, in order to protect your own.

Sookie had looked at Logan questioningly, but it only lasted an instant. Logan was one of the most favored vampires in this area, a polite and gentle creature who possessed a unique charm that came with age. He could charm the pants off a serpent, and at that particular moment, those eerie amber eyes he was famous for were being batted in Sookie's direction, just imploring her to believe . . . and she did. Logan's assurances coupled with Eric's fake calmness and forced smile soothed her greatly, and within minutes, all seemed forgotten.

The four friends stayed in the office for a while longer, but as soon as he felt it was acceptable, Eric gently suggested Sookie needed to rest, and guided her toward the door. He was willing to coddle this situation with Sookie as much as was needed to make this lie stick, but he needed to get her home and free himself before sunup. There was a lot of work to be done yet this night.

***************************************

Eric Northman's observation as to the amount of work remaining to be done this night, did not begin to encompass the mighty task Haldir of Lórien now faced in Rivendell. The elf also recognized Lord Niall's threats to be valid ones, and while he did not fear losing his tongue, he was still quite concerned for his wellbeing. Haldir did not believe Lord Elrond would allow Niall to kill him if Grace succumbed to her injuries, but he could certainly imagine his life changing dramatically - like instead of being the Marchwarden General, he might very well be condemned to a life of eternal border patrol at some remote outpost on the edges of orc territory

Cringing at the very thought, Haldir found himself deeply regretting his earlier comments. Truth be told, he would gladly save the human girl; and he did not need vicious threats to serve as encouragement. Not only would his irrefutable sense of honor and duty automatically wring every ounce of healing ability from him, the very essence of his elven being held every form of life in high regard - demanding he do any and every thing in order to save her – and Haldir did indeed intend to save this human.

Without so much as a pause for breath, Haldir began carefully making his way across the southern terrace of Lord Elrond's home, cradling Grace in his arms. He had teleported them back to Imladris, returning them to the exact same spot he left from some fifteen minutes earlier. One of the most breathtaking jewels in all of the elven realm, this tremendous edifice of opulent marble and gilded wood was nestled directly into the side of a mountain, and it was like nothing a human eye had ever seen. Not only was the exterior a masterpiece of elven architecture surrounded by lush forests of landscaping and intricate gardens, the interior provided a wanton display of elven wealth - great halls, hundreds of bedchambers and all manner of studies and meeting rooms – all smothered in layer after layer of extravagant detail and luxurious decoration. Huge and sprawling, it seemed to wind on endlessly, and unfortunately, Haldir did not know the layout well.

As a warrior who visited Rivendell infrequently, most of Haldir's time at Imladris had been spent lingering around the stables and training grounds, or holding to the common areas in the northern sections. He was somewhat crippled by his lack of knowledge, and he had no idea where he should take Grace to treat her. Frantically searching the archives of his mind as a pair of sapphire eyes traced everything around him, Haldir quickly gained his bearings. This was Elrond's favorite courtyard. It adjoined his beloved rose gardens at the southernmost tip of the structure, which had been intentionally constructed separate from the rest. It had been designed to provide privacy for members of the royal family, and to provide a quiet respite for important guests when they were visiting. Surely there was a room nearby that would be suitable for the girl in his arms!

An expansive balcony threaded the entire length of the house, so Haldir quickly made his way up the access steps, steady steps carrying a determined marchwarden and his precious cargo toward the doorway he prayed he was going to quickly find. Soon enough an arched opening revealed itself on the farthest end of the nearby balcony, and Haldir darted inside. He was pleased to find a well-lit corridor, and a short distance farther, a very large and secluded room. It appeared to be some type of keeping room, probably used when there was an important visitor, and it was thankfully unoccupied at the moment. Outfitted with the needs of a lingering visit in mind, the room housed a variety of pleasant furniture, an oversized canopy bed and there was even a private bathing chamber located nearby. It seemed the perfect impromptu place to house the limp woman in his arms.

Laying her as gently as possible on the bed, Haldir once again assumed his cold military demeanor, assessed her condition with calculating precision. The human had on strange revealing clothes, so her wounds were easy to see, and his firm hands shifted her to and fro and he inspected every inch of her. The gaping wounds in her neck and shoulder were vicious and continued to bleed profusely, while her face had been beaten somewhat severely, her lips busted open and one eye already beginning to close. Thankfully, the rest of her body revealed little more than scratches over elaborate scarring, but that was insignificant and of no importance.

Rivers of deep crimson blood continued to trace down her neck, telling the frantic elf time was not on his side, so he quickly returned to the imperative task of replacing her blood. Taking his palm into his other hand, Haldir tore at his wound, forcing it to bleed heavily again. Shaking her roughly, he pressed his palm to her lips. "Drink if you want to live!" Haldir told her firmly, glancing up expectantly at the newcomer now bursting into the room.

Gandalf had come tearing into that bedroom chamber like a house on fire, but the strange situation he discovered froze that wizard in his tracks. A quiet evening of spell writing and potion mixing in his private chambers had been most rudely interrupted by a rash of haunting images suddenly appearing in the visionary palantír stone he kept on his old scarred wooden desk. They drew his attention and his mind, telling the powerful wizard something was terribly wrong. Knowing better than to ignore such a thing, he reached out with his mind, focusing on any disturbances and then following them. They led him to this room, and he was certainly disturbed by what he found.

The visiting Marchwarden General from Lothlórien, Haldir of Lórien was on the bed, hunched over a strangely dressed female, with one hand shoved in her mouth and the other clamped around her neck. The position alluded to any number of things and immediately stirred a wide range of unusual guesses as to what that elf was doing – they ranged from restraining to copulating with that girl – both of which were somewhat disturbing ideas to say the very least. The position alone was concerning enough, but both of them had generous amounts of blood on them – including some rather concerning smears around their mouths – and Gandalf's alarmed expression told Haldir he needed to explain his actions . . . now.

"I am here at the command of Lord Elrond himself," Haldir quickly explained. "This is the great-grandchild of his brother Niall, a human who has been terribly wounded by some strange creature in the earthen realm called a vampire. The putrid thing attacked her . . . it has torn at her flesh, and drawn the blood from her veins . . . I must get my blood into this girl and replace that which was lost, or she will certainly die! Her situation is grim and time is not on my side!"

Wrinkled hands automatically clutched at the pristine folds of cottony white robes as Gandalf drew a shuddered breath and quickly approached the bed. He was working the fabric in agitation, and his gentle complexion fell into one of stark concern as he carefully considered the young human woman laying on it. She looked like no more than a sleeping child - but one that was beaten and bloody – one that looked dead. "Valar be merciful," the distraught wizard finally managed to murmur. "What type of creature can do such damage as this? And to such a delicate looking creature! And you say this girl is of the bloodline of Niall? Then the whispered rumors I have been hearing all these years of fey and their trips to the human world must have been true!"

"I know nothing of rumors, but I know that it is my task to save her . . . now saes, please excuse me . . . I have no time to speak of such things!" Haldir was still grappling for a suitable position that would allow him to stop her bleeding and still manage to somehow get blood into her mouth – it wasn't working – and he was growing more frantic by the second.

"Are you absolutely positive this child is a descendant of Lord Niall? There is no doubt?" Gandalf pressed, drawing a venomous look from Haldir in return. If the wizard wasn't helping, he was hurting, and his talking was most definitely NOT helping.

Haldir looked over at that wizard like he was about to explode, but thankfully - almost as if commanded by the sound of his name - Lord Elrond himself rushed into the room, anxious to see how this all too important human was faring. He heard the wizard's question as he entered, and quickly noted the expression on frustration on Haldir's face – he diplomatically intervened. "Yes Gandalf, she is exactly who Haldir says she is . . . a descendant of Niall," he answered matter-of-factly, brushing past his friend and falling right into action.

Haldir was an accomplished battle commander with centuries of experience treating wounds, while Elrond was a powerful natural healer in his own right, and silent instructions flew between them as the two elves worked to save her. Elrond quickly produced the healing mixture of herbs he had collected before joining them and began packing them into Grace's wounds while Haldir fell on those bedclothes, taking his knife and tearing them to shreds. As a team, they packed those terrible shoulder and neck wounds, binding them with strips of linen, finally managing to stop the worst bleeding.

Relieved to see the human's wounds somewhat stabilized, Haldir returned to his appointed task of getting blood in the girl, once again working her with both voice and mind, forcing Grace to wake and swallow the crimson drops easing from his flesh. With nothing else to offer, Elrond stepped out of his way, watching the determined warden diligently attend to her for some time before Niall suddenly appeared.

The fairy lord had finished up with things in the human world, and now he was most anxious to see about his great-grandchild. His face was a pure grimaced mask of concern, and if Haldir looked like he was going to explode, Niall looked like he was going to implode, his voice purely shaking with emotion as it came seeping from his lips to delicately trace itself against the warm evening breeze. He felt responsible for Grace being attacked – his trickery was the reason she came to Louisiana in the first place - this entire situation was his fault. "How is my great-grandchild? Is she going to survive this?"

"She will be well again, brother," Elrond assured him, tearing his gaze from the scene on that bed, to the face of his older brother. While Niall had been the vision of steadiness and barely restrained fury in the parking of Fangtasia, as he now stood, he was little more than an empty shell, desperate to know that Grace would indeed survive this attack. Elrond found himself worrying for his brother's wellbeing. "Return home," he told Niall insistently. "Grace is in capable hands, and you know that I will care for her in your stead. Saes, please . . . rest your mind. If anything changes, I will contact you instantly."

It was with the most reluctance imaginable, but after staring at Grace's crumpled form on that bed for the longest time, Niall did leave. He would be in constant mental communication with Elrond, and he could be back in Rivendell instantly if needed. For now, he would try to content himself with the knowledge that she was still alive, and that according to his brother's words, she was expected to stay that way.

Feeling the strain himself, Elrond decided to leave Haldir to his task, and retiring to the courtyard with Gandalf. The marchwarden general was so intent on his task, he didn't even look up when the pair left, continuing to work that blood into Grace one precious drop at a time. The unusual task seemed to take forever, but finally he was satisfied, and after carefully rechecking her bandages yet again, the emotionally drained elf lowered himself into a carved chair across the room from the bed. Someone would have to watch this human for a while, and it looked like it was going to be him.

Comfortable that Grace was in capable hands, Elrond and Gandalf retired to the courtyard table, a favorite place for the longtime friends to share conversation. Now sitting in silence, Gandalf wondered how to approach his obviously deeply disturbed friend about this strange situation. While Elrond made vague mention of Niall's surprising confession about the existence of human heirs a few years prior, the elf lord held his brother's affairs in close confidence. The wizard wondered if he would speak with him now.

"Sen tîr? Is the Pinilyaer descended from your line?" The old wizard began carefully, hoping his dearest friend would confide in him.

Elrond gave him a hard look, then relented, nodding in affirmation. He did not appreciate being forced to acknowledge his nephew's rampant sexual trysts, but there seemed little chance of hiding the fact that they had reproduced with humans, particularly when one of those very descendants was now resting within the walls of his home! "Mae, yes. The child there is one of the twin's descendants."

Sitting in silence for a moment, Gandalf considered his words very carefully, a gentle gaze returned to his old friend. "One of? So there are others?" he prompted gently.

Studying the elaborate patterns in the beautiful smooth stone surface of that table, Elrond finally answered. "The girl that has been brought here tonight and one other female that Niall is aware of live. Another is already passed on."

Gandalf drew a steadying breath. He was utterly amazed that there were two living human descendants of the most blessed royal bloodline shared by Lord Elrond of Rivendell and Lord Niall of Tír na nÓg. His mind raced with a thousand questions, yet he knew this was not the time to ask them. One of those descendants was terribly wounded, Elrond was obviously distressed, and the wizard knew his friend found the place of being forced to reveal unsavory personal family information to be a very uncomfortable one. "Has Niall had contact with the other?" he asked gently.

"Yes," Elrond answered, his voice strained with emotion. "The other human girl is aware of Niall, aware of her heritage. My brother visits with her often, and she is assigned a guardian . . . the fairy maiden Claudine. She is excellent about informing him of her actions."

Elrond frowned deeply when he finished his sentence, a new thought now perplexing him. Grace needed to be assigned a guardian as well - something Niall should have done some time past - something that would have prevented this entire night's events from transpiring. Tapping his fingers against the tabletop in irritation, Elrond cast a thoughtful gaze across that balcony. Descended from fey or not, the girl laying in that bedchamber was blood related to him, she now owed her life to the elves and she was a guest in his home. Elrond knew he would have to speak with Niall. They would have to agree on the one chosen to guard her, for certainly the elves were now entitled to a stake in her future as well.

Gandalf watched the emotions cross the face of his friend, hoping he would share more, curious to learn of these two human women. "And is Niall pleased with these two girls? What has he learned of them? Have they inherited any of the fey traits?"

Dark brows furrowed together as Elrond considered that question. He answered honestly - because elves could not tell a lie - although the words plagued him. "Sookie is descended of Fintan, the bright one. She is fairly young in earth years, and yes, she is gifted with mental sight. She hears the thoughts of others just as we do. Her actions do not always please Niall, but that is of no concern to me . . . as for the Pinilyaer that lies wounded there, Grace does not know of her relation to him, nor does he know much of her yet. Niall does not know if she possesses any of the fairy abilities, but when he returns, be certain that we shall be speaking of it." He paused considering the weight of his own words. "My assumption would be that if one girl inherited some of the fey touches, the Pinilyaer shall posses some as well . . . it shall be interesting to find out which ones."

Gandalf considered that information carefully as he leaned back into his chair. His mind began to boil with uneasy thoughts. A human now lay in a bedchamber of Imladris – a human descended from a royal fairy who had been bitten and drained of blood by some horrible earth creature – and now, that blood had been restored with the blood of an immortal elf – and not just any elf – one of the most revered warriors of the elven realm, Haldir of Lórien. Who could possible begin to guess what that strange supernatural concoction of oddities could wring from a simple human body?

The wizard's frown deepened continually as his mind worked, and when his eyes began to absently wander toward her room, he found himself suddenly frozen, stunned by what he saw, just as he had been stunned earlier by the scene he discovered in that bedchamber. A once beautiful and peaceful evening no longer existed, the very texture of the air itself had changed. Where the gentle softness of a late summer's eve had once been, now hung the thickness of despair, a palpable heaviness that drug at your flesh and pulled at your lungs. His eyes went to the sky, taking in a previously bright moon that could no longer shine its light through the dark and vicious clouds that had gathered over it. His eyes shifted again, searching for more signs – signs of the elements – elements that were being manipulated. He found them. Just as the air hung heavy, and the very sky seemed concerned, so had the very plants and trees around that end of the structure become affected. Beautiful lush greenery so carefully tended by elven gardeners now hung limp and distressed in their pots, the limbs of trees drooped toward the ground, and the very flowers themselves seemed unwilling to share their scent. It was as if the very soil itself were holding its breath, waiting to see if this human girl would survive.

"I must leave," he said hurriedly, abruptly pushing away from the table. "There is more to the Pinilyaer than anyone imagines, and things are not well in this place." No more than the sound of robes against stone remained in that instant. Gandalf was gone, rushing into the depths of Imladris to return to his study and the palantír stone, hoping that he could find some insight into the strange things that had taken place this night.

***************************************

Many hours later, Grace woke up, and that confused human girl was most assuredly searching for some insight into the strange things that had taken place that night. She felt exactly like what she was – someone who had the shit stomped out of them – and she struggled to open her eyes. Only one responded, the other able to open no more than a swelling restricted slit. _"Where in the hell am I?"_ she wondered.

She struggled to clear her muddled mind. A lot of what happened last night was a blur, but she remembered the attack. The vampire had punched her in the face and she remembered hitting the ground violently. Her brain had also clearly captured the sick sound of it feeding on her neck, and Grace gingerly reached up with the hand she could force a response from, tentatively working it up toward the side of her neck, terrified of what she might find.

What her fingers found were bandages of some type, and they offered a huge comfort, dulling the harsh reality of what had happened to her. Hesitantly, Grace reached up farther to touch her face. She didn't need a mirror to tell she had been beaten badly. Her lips felt out of proportion, part of her face was numb, and one eye was obviously swollen partway shut. There was also the strangest sweet taste in her mouth. What on earth had she had to drink?

Attempting to get her bearings, Grace tried to look around, but found her neck refused to cooperate, and her eyes were determined not to focus. The images were clouded, but everything around her seemed filled with light – but not a typical light. This was a seemingly soft ethereal light, an oddly pleasing glow that seemed to caress your flesh and warm your soul. It was oddly comforting, and it told Grace that night had passed. Excruciating pain throbbed through her face and neck with every heartbeat, telling Grace she must be alive, but the odd glowing surroundings made her genuinely wonder if she was dead and had passed on.

Terrified, she froze, looking but not daring to move again. Her eyes darted around frantically, her mind recording every possible detail from her limited vantage point. The room was obviously very large, and it appeared she was on an extremely large raised bed made of light colored wood with strange carvings. She was still wearing her clothing from the night before, and she was laying on top of elaborate snowy white linens - parts of which had been ripped to shreds. The temperature seemed comfortable and a soft breeze teased the gossamer curtains hanging at the nearby window, causing them to float softly on the air, while gentle beams of sunlight drew fire from the glistening gold and silver embroidery along their edges.

Considering the things she saw, Grace knew if this was a hospital, it certainly didn't look like any one she had ever been in before. She closed her eyes and shifted her attention to her other senses. Ears? She could hear nothing. None of the annoying beeps from monitors and IV pumps, no nurses mumbling in the halls, no announcements over the intercom system. Nose? Nothing but the fresh scent of clean air – perfectly clean air. There was none of that acrid antiseptic smell hospitals typically reeked of. She was certainly not in a hospital.

 _Was she dead? Could this possibly be heaven? Could this possibly be something else?_

Well, thank god there weren't any flames or smoke, so Grace decided while her life certainly hadn't been perfect, if she was dead, at least she'd managed to make it to somewhere pleasant! And finding out just where this strange pleasant place was became her next task – and that required sitting up.

Dragging an arm under her, Grace shoved her elbow into the mattress and forced her shoulder and head off the pillow, only to find herself immediately drowning under crashing waves of nausea and dizziness. Groaning loudly, she collapsed back into her original position, but no way in hell was she staying in that bed. She was going to get up, but as she lay there contemplating just how to make that happen, she came to a startling conclusion – she was being watched. Grace didn't know where, and she didn't know where, but there was no doubt in her mind that another creature was in that room with her – and that brought a whole new wave of wild emotional thoughts tearing over her.

 _What if the vampire who attacked her had taken her home with him? What if she was being held captive now? What if he intended to finish her off? What if he didn't intend to finish her off? What if he intended to enjoy her first . . . or what if he just intended to enjoy her?_

Knowing the only way a vampire would touch her body again was if it was dead, Grace made up her mind that she was getting out of that bed if it was the last thing she ever did. Absolutely determined, the beleaguered human tried once again to get up, but failed miserably. Try as she might, Grace could not raise herself to a sitting position, and the longer she lay there, the more enraged she became. Nothing about that damn trip to Louisiana had been her idea – neither had anything about the ludicrous idea of visiting a vampire bar – yet she was the poor dumbass now chewed apart and trapped in a bed – being watched. It was a harsh reality, and it was rubbing her already extremely chafed ass the wrong way. She'd been in pain worse than this before, and no way in hell was she staying trapped in this bed!

Letting out a disgusted sigh, she sucked in a deep breath - screw this shit – she was getting out of this bed! Grabbing a handful of those ripped up bed clothes, Grace used it as leverage to shift her body, gingerly rolling herself onto her right side away from the wound. It took her a few minutes to do it, but she went very, very slowly and finally she got there, careful to balance herself on her side with her legs. It was an improvement, it offered a better vantage point, and Grace could now see more of the room. There was a carved table beside the bed, decorated with a beautifully embroidered cloth and a beautiful glass vase filled with some of the most unusual yellow flowers she had ever seen. Beyond that, was an arched doorway that appeared to lead to a wide hallway of some sort, but Grace could see no other doors . . . and no people.

After resting for a moment, she decided it was time to move again, so using her feet to push and her one good arm to pull, Grace eased her way up to the headboard. Grabbing it, she took her feet and pushed with all her might, heaving herself up into a sitting position. The effort was almost too much, intensifying the pain in her face and shoulder to remarkable levels, sending searing waves of pure agony pierced her brain with enough force to make Grace wonder if someone had slammed her head in a car door. Luckily, she didn't pass out, but she did lose her breath for a few minutes, and she could do little more that sit with her eyes closed until the nausea passed and her head cleared. When she finally managed to open them again, she had a different vantage point completely – and she immediately recognized that her suspicions had been perfectly accurate – she was not alone.

Haldir of Lórien's cool sapphire eyes had been carefully recording every movement from the wounded mortal on that bed, while his powerful telepathic mind had been monitoring every thought that passed a nerve ending. He had watched as she slowly shifted herself, and pondered what the word "adopted" meant while she fought to get upright. He found himself slightly confused that her thoughts seemed so rational, and vaguely impressed that she'd been determined enough to sit up. The girl's clothing and language were certainly odd, but she appeared to have some fight in here, which was a pleasant surprise. It should help her recover from her wounds, and he knew Lord Elrond and Lord Niall would both be pleased.

Considering that, the elf frowned slightly, wondering why they cared so much. Humans were disgusting creatures - so far beneath the elf race it wasn't even worth the thought to compare the two. The mere idea of this one being in his world assailed every sense of Haldir's being, and when he added in the fact that he had been forced to share his blood with her and now appeared to have been silently appointed her personal nursemaid, he was not a happy creature at all. Musing those thoughts, he suddenly realized that his were not entirely different than hers - she was no happier about being in this place than he was to have her here. The strange thought perplexed him, and it took a moment for Haldir to realize her eyes were resting on him.

Sitting in that bed, Grace was far more perplexed that that elf was. Not only was she in one of the most fascinatingly beautiful room she had ever seen, she quickly realized the angel from her dreams was not a dream at all – he was very much alive and sitting in a chair across the room from her. She studied him very carefully. The silver haired creature in that chair was most certainly not the vampire who attacked her in the parking lot of that bar . . . but she did not know what type of creature he was. His skin was strangely pale and perfect looking, and Grace knew there was still the possibility that he was a vampire. Neither spoke, and when he made no effort to move, Grace finally decided she could take the opportunity to look around further. She had no idea where she was, or who that man was, but she wanted to know where an escape route was should she need it.

The room she found herself in was quite large – much, much larger than that hotel suite she'd checked into a few days ago – and it was so beautifully appointed her eyes could scarcely take it all in. Numerous intricate stained glass windows set into arched openings stood slightly open to allow a gentle breeze to meander inside, tickling against yards and yards of the elaborate fabric she'd glimpsed earlier, causing it to dance and play against the light. The furniture was similar in some ways to what she was used to, yet in other ways it was entirely different. Every inch of every piece of wood in that room was covered with the most elaborately detailed etchings she had ever seen, while everything seemed to emanate an almost heavenly glow. It seemed as if the very stone upon the floor and the rough coating on the wall were lit from within.

It was enough to shorten her breath and send her architecturally oriented mind into a tailspin, and she found her eyes eagerly searching for more. To her left, she found two huge arched door openings leading out of the room, and she could see a very large balcony area extending beyond them. The balcony itself was nothing short of a structural phenomenon with marble pillars, what appeared to be a hand hewn stone floor and carved wooden pilasters that looked as if they took years to create. Past that was harder to see, but Grace was positive she could make out what appeared to be snow capped mountains in the distance, which was very confusing . . . there were no mountains anywhere near Shreveport, Louisiana!

Grace was studying the unbelievable pattern of flowers and vines that seemed to have been hand embroidered on those shredded bedclothes when Haldir slowly approached the bed. He had tried to allow her time to acclimate, but he needed to reassess her condition now that she was awake. _"I mean you no harm,_ " he told her, only Haldir used his mind to speak, not his mouth, placing the thought directly into her mind. It obviously confused her, and Grace did no more than stare at him oddly when he slipped to sit beside her.

The intensity of her gaze was somewhat disconcerting, but it was nothing compared to her physical condition. From across the room her appearance was unpleasant, but this close, it was devastating. Through many battles past, Haldir had seen all manners of physical damage, but he had never seen it on a female and it disturbed him deeply. Elven females tended to be similar in statue to males - their height often approaching six feet – but Grace was nowhere close to that size, barely easing past five, and she was slight of frame on top of that. That made the damage all the more disturbing, and Haldir found himself not only distraught, but increasingly angry as he inspected her.

Her face had taken the brunt of the vampire's fury. Her lips were busted and swollen, cracked and shapeless, while one eye was nearly closed and painted in alarming hues of purple and blue. The vicious bites and tears he inflicted extended down the side of her neck onto her shoulder, and while they were still covered by the dressings he'd applied during the night, they were obviously bleeding. Her bandages were damp with blood, and Haldir knew they would need to be removed and replaced.

Intent on her condition, Haldir automatically reached to check his handiwork, finding himself surprised when Grace jerked away, snatching the covers up around her. He stopped instantly, lowering his hand and replacing it on the bed beside him. _"I mean you no harm,_ " he repeated silently, tilting his head to one side and studying her. The human girl looked like a pixie to him, and he found himself not entirely surprised to find that she was descended from the fey. She was small, thin and dainty with deep bronze skin kissed by the sun, and while he could tell little about her face beneath the bruising, it was framed by very short raven black hair.

The natural instinct to protect a living creature smaller and more fragile than himself began to assert itself as Haldir's curious gaze continued, his face creasing into a frown as he began to notice the scars. They traced in delicate rivers against her skin, appearing lighter as they ran around her hairline, continuing down her neck before disappearing into her clothing. Others lingered along her arms, even a few touching her fingers, and Haldir found himself suddenly overwhelmed with concern for her wellbeing, perplexed that such a delicate looking creature had been so damaged at some point.

Grace was studying Haldir very closely too. Muddled images collected in an oxygen deprived state did not compare to the actual living creature now sitting on that bed beside her, and Grace wondered if at some point a star fell from the sky and reformed itself into that man. Piercing blue eyes the color of a Caribbean lagoon were set within the most perfect alabaster flesh Grace had ever seen – flesh that completely lacked any pores or imperfections of any kind, so pale it almost seemed to glow. Hair that could only be described as platinum in color hung long down his back, the color so striking and unusual, that the only thing Grace could find vaguely reminiscent of it was tranquil moonbeams shimmering against a crisp winter night. He wore it simple and straight, smoothed back from his face and contained there with small braids over his ears.

Ears. Grace had to look twice. His ears were . . . well, they were pointed for lack of a better word, and if Grace thought her muddled mind was having problems digesting his hair color, it was nothing compared to that odd little observation. Positive she was delirious and obviously imagining things, she forced herself to stop staring, shifting her gaze instead to the most tantalizing mouth she'd seen in years. Rosy lips formed the most appealing pout, and while she found herself unbelievable grateful that no fangs extended over them, she also found them to be oddly familiar. Grace was positive she had felt them on hers before.

Confused and struggling against a crippling headache, Grace tried to remember her deeply rooted southern manners. It was rude to stare, but Grace found she simply could not take her eyes off him. That damn man was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen, and Grace involuntarily slid her eyes down the rest of him, carefully recording every single inch of that remarkable sight. He looked to be tall, lean and obviously in remarkable physical condition. His clothing was simple, but it did not detract from that well formed body in any way whatsoever. An earthy colored top of a finely woven fabric stretched over a wide chest that rippled muscles every time he breathed, while heavy brown leather pants creased in provocative places and clung to obviously well formed thighs. He wore a heavy gold pendant around his neck with a strange looking tree on it, and Grace found herself wondering what it meant.

Her inspection was as thorough as his had been the night before, and Haldir patiently sat through it, hoping it would put her mind at ease. He watched and listened to her intently, and only when her mind seemed to ease and her eyes had stopped their travels, did he speak for the first time. "Hello Little One, I mean you no harm," he said soothingly, trying to reassure her. "You have been badly injured and I need to tend the wound. Heniach nin? Do you understand?"

The voice was like no sound Grace had heard before – sounding almost like music - the accent a strange one she could not place. It took her a moment to realize it was English he was speaking, but while she understood the question he posed, she did not answer it.

"I am the one who helped you in the night," he promptly softly, "can you remember?" Getting no response, he tried again. "Heniach nin? Do you understand?" Haldir asked, more firmly this time. "Can you remember, Pinilyaer?" Grace still did not reply, but when he reached to touch her again, she surprised him with the warning look she passed his way. The human girl was daring him to touch her, and Haldir believed if he reached for her she would surely scream - or worse. He remained still, not wanting to frighten her any further.

 _"Can you remember?"_ he repeated silently, using his mind to speak this time.

Yes. Grace remembered a little, but the memories were cloudy and muddled, almost as if viewed through a dense fog. She fought to clear them, straining to bring back anything intelligible, and finally managed to recall a strange man's hand being pressed to her mouth . . . and that wasn't all . . . lips had been pressed there too. Alarmed eyes instantly raced back on that perfect face, sliding across those pouty lips with enough intensity to draw a matching rose colored blush creeping across his cheeks. Her dark brows dropped in displeasure as her attentions shifted to his hand, vividly remembering a hand being clamped over her mouth during the struggle. Had this man helped hold her down at some point?

Haldir could hear her rampant thoughts as they tore through her mind, and he stayed still as stone when Grace slowly reached out to touch him. The vampire's touch had been cold, dead feeling and she wondered if he would feel the same. Cautiously, a small tanned hand was extended, then a single finger . . . and she poked him. Like a child would poke at a newly discovered creature with a stick, Grace quite unceremoniously poked Haldir with her finger, probing him several times in the arm. He seemed solid enough – proving he was not an angel or apparition of any kind – and he was thankfully warm. He was not a vampire either.

Encouraged, Grace then took the whole hand approach, cautiously running her palm down his forearm, and finally resting it on his hand for a moment. His flesh felt warm, soft and perfectly normal – and Grace was thrilled. Obviously, the man was neither an angel, a ghost or a vampire. Whatever he was, he was alive same as she was. Momentarily satisfied, she put her hands back under the blanket, but her contentment did not last long. A mind suddenly freed from the worries of vampires and angels, now found itself struggling to comprehend warm men with pointed ears who lived in places that glowed, and that brought on a whole new maelstrom of emotion.

Within seconds, Grace was shaking like a leaf, very close to having a panic attack as a million thoughts raced through her mind. _What had happened to her last night? What the hell kind of man had pointed ears? Where in the world was she? How in hell was she going to get out of this place?_ Her mind purely boiled as her body trembled, and Haldir quickly realized she was absolutely terrified, and he was making it worse.

Quickly rising from the bed, Haldir retreated to the far side of the room. The human had suffered through a terrible experience, and if he continued to agitate her it would only make things worse . . . yet her wounds simply had to be tended. Frowning, the warden searched for options, finally deciding that perhaps Lord Elrond could reach her. The powerful elven lord seeped compassion, while his naturally soothing nature as a healer made him easily accepted by most creatures. If anyone could soothe her, Haldir was positive Elrond could, so nodding to Grace politely, Haldir left the room. He planned to fetch the elven lord and return in just a moment.

Exiting onto the balcony, Haldir could see that Elrond was seated at the courtyard table in the company of Gandalf and Niall. The trio looked weary and disturbed. They had been at that courtyard table for several hours now, deep in conversation about Grace and what effects the strange supernatural cocktail she'd been subjected to the night before might bring to her. The possibilities ranged from nothing to nearly everything unpleasant imaginable, and after pondering those terrible options at length, they had now fallen into a deep disagreement as to who her newly appointed guardian would be. Niall had just informed Elrond of his choice when Haldir began to approach, and Elrond was obviously infuriated by it.

They fell silent as Haldir approached, and the tension was palpable when he reached the table. "The human has been deeply traumatized by her experience," he told the two lords, after bowing his respects. "While she has now woken, the Pinilyaer wishes not to be touched, nor will she allow me to tend to her wounds. I fear she is bleeding and it is most necessary that she be persuaded to accept care from one of us. I had hoped that you might speak to her, Lord Elrond."

His words were met only with three very deep frowns, and Haldir could tell that his words only served to agitate Elrond that much more. "I will join you in a moment," he instructed Haldir in a strained tone, his expression clearly telling that warden to make himself scarce.

Bowing respectfully, Haldir immediately retreated to the far side of the courtyard. He certainly did not wish to intrude on their obviously private conversation, nor did he intend to reenter the bedchamber without the elven lord, so he would simply wait. Waiting was an integral part of being a marchwarden, and something Haldir was well acquainted with after spending centuries working himself through the ranks before becoming Marchwarden General. While he had not served on guard duty for quite some time, he was still intimately familiar with the endless hours one could spend silently waiting and watching for anything and nothing to happen, so placing himself inconspicuously against one of the large balcony columns, he assumed a most familiar position. Here he would watch, and he would wait, and Haldir was absolutely positive nothing would happen. He was wrong.

While a marchwarden was perfectly content to remain still for hours on end, a human most certainly was not – particularly a most agitated and scared one that had no idea where they were. The very instant that pointed eared man left the room, Grace had decided she most certainly must get out of this place, and she did not intend to wait another second.

Having already struggled into a sitting position, Grace knew getting off the bed wouldn't be nearly as hard. Getting upright was half the battle, getting off the bed was the other. Slowly, she slid herself to the edge, the eased her legs over the side. Thankfully it wasn't too high, and Grace was relieved that she could reach the floor. The warmness of the wood felt oddly comforting against her bare feet, so after taking a moment to settle her nerves, she reached out and grabbed the bedside table. While delicately decorated, it was actually quite sturdy and definitely capable of bracing her while she stood, so taking a deep breath, Grace pulled herself to a standing position. The dizziness washed over her instantly, and for a moment she wondered if she would faint, but thankfully with a little time and a lot of determination, it passed.

 _Now what?_ She wondered silently to herself.

Taking a moment to reassess the room, Grace found three identical doorways. Two obviously led outdoors, and one to some sort of hallway. Grace quickly decided the balcony was a safer choice. If she could figure out where she was, she could decide how to get away. Listening closely, her ears searched for any familiar sound, highway noise or a car horn. To her dismay, she found only with the sounds of birds chirping, insects humming, and perhaps the very distant sound of water. Refusing to be discouraged, she took slow hesitant steps, carefully working her way around the bed and across the room to the closest doorway. Once there, she peeked around the corner, almost like a mouse peering out of their safe hole in the wall and what she saw took her breath away.

A view that looked as if a master's landscape painting had suddenly come to life stretched out before her, and Grace had to remind herself three times to stop staring and look for signs of danger before she stepped outside. One impossibly beautiful balcony surrounded by a plethora of exotic landscaping . . . that was the imminent threat she faced . . .so Grace decided it was most definitely safe to come out. A few wobbly steps earned her to the steadying support of a light wood balcony railing, and allowed her the luxury of taking in more of her unbelievable new location – and it was most certainly a pleasant one.

Breathtaking swathes of color bathed a ring of majestic snow capped mountains in showy brilliance – vibrant oranges and yellows falling into rich shades of deepest green as they reached for the picturesque valley below. An entire collection of sparkling silver waterfalls danced in their company, throwing themselves down the sides with wild abandon, scintillating in the distance and tossing rainbows into the air at regular intervals.

The air was pleasingly warm, and when Grace drew in a deep breath, she found it instantly answered with the heavy scent of flowers – and there were certainly flowers – thousands of them. Large one, small ones, teensie trumpets hanging in clusters from thick winding vines, dinner plate sized splashes of color languidly resting against thick greenery . . . every imaginable color of an artist's palette presented in what appeared to be a perfect three dimensional recreation of the most exquisite watercolor painting ever rendered, and Grace could only blink and stare as she realized that wherever it was, it looked exactly the way a fairy wonderland should.

It took time before she could tear her eyes from the distance, and focus on the actual structure itself. What Grace had assumed was a large house, revealed itself to be more of a elaborate estate that seemed to stretch on endlessly to her left, appearing to be built directly into the bottom side of one of the mountains. The walls unbelievably appeared to be made of marble or granite slabs, innumerable stone pieces fitted together seamlessly, sparkling with a hidden fire as tiny argent bits in their depths fought for recognition. The roof was just as impressive, visually pleasing peaks ebbing and flowing with the rhythm of the rooms below, all covered in various shades of deep viridian slates. Even the floor itself was a work of art, boasting an intricate pattern of fitted wood pieces that had been etched into delicate ribbons of flowers and birds. It was so amazing, Grace hated to even be standing on it.

Grace honestly felt as if she could stand there and simply steep herself in the opulence of the place forever, but her frail condition was not quite up for that task yet. Those neck and shoulder wounds were still bleeding, and her unwillingness to remain in bed had aggravated them, reopening them and causing them to bleed again. Feeling suddenly nauseous, Grace found herself getting lightheaded and realized that getting up was probably not such a great idea after all. She clamped her hands around the balcony rail, but found them weak and slippery with a cold sweat. They could not hold her, and though she fought hard against the dizziness, she slowly began to faint.

That gentle folding of her flesh was instantly observed by a pair of deep blue eyes belonging to the marchwarden who had been watching her for some time now. Haldir had been very surprised to see Grace work her way out onto the balcony, knowing those bites were enough to keep even an elf down for days – and he wryly noted that they were obviously enough to keep her down as well as he went tearing across that smooth stone to catch her. Clearing the balcony steps as if they were no more than a clump of grass, he was beside Grace before her knees completely bent, drawing her into his arms for support. Unfortunately, Haldir would have done better to let Grace hit the floor, because in his haste to help her, he did nothing more than scare her half to death, and now he was the one who was going to fold.

Lightheaded, dizzy and now suddenly encased in the arms of a very large strange man, Grace had no time to think – and she didn't. Refusing to be caught off guard the way she had been the night before, Grace simply let go, allowing the instinctive determination to protect herself take over completely. Clamping her eyes shut, she reached into the depths of her soul to take hold and bring forth a power that Laurel Grace never, ever used – and that power responded with a vengeance.

A torrent of blue flames engulfed her flesh like wildfire, seeming as if they erupted from her very soul itself. A streak of lightning shot across a somber sky, a thick trail of pure energy burning bright enough to hurt your eyes. A thunder clap loud enough to make the windows tremble rolled through the valley, hushing all life, telling it to stop and listen . . . then Grace took hold of Haldir of Lórien with her mind, and she threw his ass across that balcony like a piece of trash. Grace looked like a creature possessed when she opened her eyes again. They had gone black as night, pools of deathly cold obsidian with a threatening blue fire glistening in their depths, warning Haldir that she could crush him to death with no more than the blink of her eyes if she wanted to.

From the time she was a toddler, Grace had possessed a very unique skill - the power to move items with her mind, or telekinetic ability. The aggravating "gift" had always been a part of her life, but outside of Grace herself, only her adoptive mother had known about it. Grace fought very hard to keep it hidden, never telling one living soul, but unfortunately for Haldir, refusing to talk about what she could do, did not translate into Grace refusing to use that power if she felt her life was in danger.

The angel man now sprawled on that balcony floor might very well be the one who helped her during the night, but genteel by nature or not, Laurel Grace could guarantee both his silver-haired self and any other creature who cared to ask one thing for certain. The near fatal mistake she made last night would never be repeated, and the next person who touched her without permission could plan on being bounced off the nearest wall . . . if she let them live that long.

"What are you?" Haldir hissed up at her. "A sorceress? A witch?"

Grace did not answer. She simply clung to the balcony rail, fighting to contain the flames that covered her as she continued to watch him with a poisonous stare.

Her silence prompted a near explosion of rage. Haldir was shocked, embarrassed and completely infuriated, glaring back at Grace as sat up, checking himself for scrapes and bruises. The throw had knocked the air out of him, but when he cast a glance over his hands, he stopped breathing completely. His heart refused to beat in his chest and his very blood came to a halt within his veins. Haldir was staring at his palm, but he could not believe what he saw: where there had been a terrible gash, now only a scar remained. The wound was completely healed.

That perfect pale face became instantly stained with crimson, as a flood of furious fear came washing over him. "When I get off of this floor, I may very well put you on it in my place," Haldir seethed as he began to rise.

Grace stared down at him unimpressed. "Get off that floor, and it will be the last thing you ever do."


	3. Immortal Blood

Chapter 3 – Immortal Blood

Thunder rolled out an ominous warning as silent footsteps carried an imposing supernatural guardian across the smooth stone terrace of Imladris. His cold emerald green eyes burned with intense curiosity, carefully studying his surroundings. Amarande Nuada was here at the demand of Lord Niall, and the mercenary was wondering what surprises the strange request might bring.

Before the thought was complete, a dismal sky shattered beneath a huge streak of lightning, then Haldir of Lórien went flying backwards across the balcony just above him. Up the steps instantly, Nuada already held his war blade, fully expecting to see some great creature attacking the powerful elf he knew to be so highly skilled in battle, yet the scene he actually discovered surprised him as few others before, stopping him in his tracks. His perplexed gaze revealed a petite human girl burning with the brilliant blue flames of a juvenile fey . . . and she was glaring at Haldir like she intended to kill him.

After casting a quick glance toward the sky, Nuada sheathed that large knife and took a closer look at the obviously distraught female and the extremely angry marchwarden. He contemplated them uncertainly. The girl was obviously injured and appeared very unsteady, yet it was Haldir of Lórien who was slowly rising from the balcony floor. Nuada looked to the warden for some type of explanation. "Did that child just throw you?" he asked, the oddly accented voice showing no emotion, although his green eyes now danced with the beginnings of humor, infuriating Haldir even further.

"She did that indeed!" Haldir snarled in return, bristling with anger as he slowly rose from the floor, all while keeping a careful eye turned toward Grace. Thankfully, she did not make good on her earlier threat, so he took a moment to finish brushing himself off, all the while trying to subdue the heat of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks. Of all the times to find himself rising from the ground, Haldir could not believe it was in front of that creature! He was mortified.

Fortunately, Nuada cared nothing for his discomfort. He cared only to understand this odd interaction he just interrupted, and those relentlessly observant eyes continued to shift from Haldir to the girl and back again, trying to understand – and he was indeed beginning to understand – both what had just happened and why he had been summoned here. Stepping closer, the slightest smirk of delight began to creep across his face, and Nuada could not suppress the tiniest low chuckle when Haldir slid him a warning glare. _"Mára aurë, Haldir,_ " Nuada told him silently, communicating mind to mind. He then turned his attentions fully toward Grace, nodding his head to her as he placed his right hand over his heart in a proper elven greeting. "Gen suilon, Pinilyaer. Ni meren an ngovaded vîn. I am Nuada, and I am very pleased to meet you."

A fearful yet venomous gaze left Haldir to consider this newcomer, as Grace found herself anything but pleased to meet him in return. Facing one intimidating man twice her size was bad enough, but facing two downright sucked, and even though a quick glance revealed more pointed ears - telling Grace they must be of the same species - the similarities between those two men ended right there. Haldir was one fine physical specimen, his unusual looks more than earning him the nickname she'd creatively chosen of "angel man", but when Grace looked at this new "Nuada" creature, the only thing that came to mind was "angel of death", because he scared her shitless.

Well over a head taller than Grace, this new creature seemed older, more experienced and much more dangerous than the other one. His imposing appearance began with the most brilliant emerald green eyes Grace had ever seen, set within a handsome, almost European face. He was striking, elegant and appealing yet he appeared weathered, with a slight harsh edge to his features. Flawless alabaster flesh that seemed it had rarely known the sun somehow managed to look warm, while hair the color of corn silk hung quite long, darkening at the ends, a brilliant gold sheen flaming in the light almost as if it were on fire.

An aura of invincibility seeped from his very pores, while the unrelieved solid black ensemble he was wearing only served to magnify his presence. Fitted leggings and a sleek long sleeve shirt, were topped by an intricately patterned leather vest secured with a heavy weapons belt hosting a vicious looking knife, while an even more intimidating weapon was clearly visible on his back. From the clothes to the armaments, everything about his presence commanded attention, and when he locked that predatory gaze on her and spoke, Grace knew this man did not tolerate his requests being ignored.

"Fear me not Pinilyaer, for I have not come to harm you. Free yourself to speak, for I would very much like to hear from you. Man eneth lín? What is your name, little one?" His voice was strange under some thick unidentifiable accent, lyrical and beautiful, yet the tone demanded to be answered. It was not going to happen.

Grace didn't say one word. She just stared at Nuada like he was completely insane. Fear me not? Try again sweetheart! That man looked like he would eat her heart for breakfast, and she was positive that baby butcher knife he was carrying wasn't for kicks and giggles either. Damn right she feared him – soothing voice or not, that man was pure damn scary – and that unyielding stare coming her way was making Grace wonder if he was gonna talk to her, or kill her. She wasn't saying shit.

As silence stretched between them, Nuada found himself somewhat irritated that Grace was refusing to answer him. She was perfectly correct in her assumption that he did not tolerate being ignored, so he took a step closer, but immediately stopped when her eyes widened in fear, then narrowed in warning. They were shifting from his spear to the blade hanging at this side, and Nuada suddenly realized what she was thinking – and a quick survey of her thoughts confirmed it. The girl did not believe either he or Haldir wanted to help her. Grace was convinced they intended to hurt her.

 _"Rest easy, little one. I come in peace,_ " he assured silently.

The mind to mind communication only seemed to agitate her, so clasping his hands behind his back, Nuada attempted to make himself as least intimidating as possible, actually causing that knife and spear to disappear – one commanding thought returning them to his weapons room. He hoped the action would soothe her, but unfortunately it had the opposite effect. Grace's hand clutched to her chest and she gasped in surprise, all while flaming even brighter. She was absolutely terrified now, and Nuada frowned, then spoke to her aloud, hoping to quiet her fears. "I assure you Pinilyaer, I mean you no harm. My weapons are only to protect and it seemed they frightened you, now saes, please . . . I have been asked to come here and meet you. Would you at least speak to me? Tell me your name?"

Name? What name? Grace was so freaked out by that knife and sword disappearing, she didn't even know her name . . . men with pointed ears? . . . magical mountain valleys that looked like they came from a fairy tale? . . . rooms that glowed? Her eyes hit the floor, her mind boiling with such a rampant stew of thoughts she honestly couldn't begin to answer Nuada's question, so he did the thing he assumed he had been brought there to do – he helped her.

Sliding into her thoughts as smoothly as an ocean breeze, Nuada ever so gently calmed her mind, quieting her fears and easing that torrential flow of emotions. He did not take them away, but he stemmed the flow, slowing it to a tolerable level while also inserting secret subliminal messages deep into her thoughts . . . _My name is Nuada . . . I am a guardian . . . I am here to protect you . . . show me no fear . . . you will never know harm by my hand._

While manipulating her mind, Nuada was also doing other things; searching her thoughts for an explanation of what happened to reduce her to such a disheveled physical state and carefully logging every inch of her form. Her mind told him she was a human who had been attacked by a vampire, while those blue flickers told him beyond doubt she was of fey descent. Her clothing was mangled, exposing marbled scars against bronze skin that spoke of much past pain, while the bloody bandages on her neck and severe bruising on her face, screamed of her recent traumas. It was an ugly combination of revelations, the overall effect of which was quite disturbing, and Nuada found himself quite pleased when Grace began to ease. He could not erase her physical pain, but he could and would soothe her soul.

It took time and ancient mental strength to accomplish, but slowly the tension in her body eased, the flames dimmed and her eyes softened. They were returned to their typical deep thunderstorm grey when she lifted them from the floor and locked Nuada down under an attentive gaze – throwing a surprising race of tingles down his spine and disturbing Nuada even further. Those eyes were as unusual as any he had ever seen, yet he was positive he had indeed seen them before. He just did not know where. His brain fought to place this girl as he presented his question again. "Would you please tell me your name, Pinilyaer?" Nuada asked politely, wondering what memories it might stir.

His voice was smooth as silk, compelling Grace to respond – and she did. Carefully pronouncing his strange name in her thick southern drawl, she reluctantly answered. "Hello Nuada. My name is Grace."

"Grace . . ." he replied, mulling the name for a moment. "Hmm . . .Erulissë. Very well then, that was not so hard was it?" Her name meant nothing to him, but he seemed genuinely pleased that she had spoken, and his expression eased as he offered her a slight smile.

It seemed almost like a reward, and Grace did not smile in return. Yes, it most certainly was that hard. She did not know who or what an Erulissë was, nor did she know why she suddenly wasn't afraid of him anymore, but she wanted Nuada to get out of the way so she could focus her attention back on the other man. This entire time, he had been standing there seething in her direction, and Grace was just waiting to see if he intended to try and put her on the floor of that balcony - because if he did, she intended to throw him off it.

Lucky for both of them, Haldir would never honestly consider such an action, and even if he did, he most certainly would never act on it in front of that guardian. He had been observing their cordial exchange in stunned disbelief, watching with curiosity at the way Nuada had been able to charm the hostile human girl with his mere presence. It bordered on witchcraft, and considering that, Haldir frowned deeply. The powerful blond warrior now standing on the balcony of Imladris was unlike any other the marchwarden knew of, and Haldir found himself both amazed and apprehensive to be standing beside him. He worried what repercussions any situation dire enough to involve that creature might bring, and wondered what he ever did to anger the Valar enough to force him into this middle of it.

Nuada was more legend than anything else, a creature unbelievably skilled at the art of death who practiced the ancient ways of the guardians. Stories of him had circulated for centuries, wild tales of exile, prison escapes from the realm of the Nameless Ones, dark spirits and torture. His loyalties seemed to align with the fairies, yet not one soul could claim the striking blond warrior as a friend or ally. He answered to no ruler, he obeyed no laws, and he was a mercenary - an outcast and loner who went his own way - and usually it was down the path of the highest bidder. Haldir assumed Nuada was here because Lord Niall called for him, and he found himself wondering what his intentions were.

Nuada's intentions were to protect that human, a fact that became crystal clear when he asked his next question. "Might you share what mellon nín did to displease you?" he asked Grace curiously.

Haldir frowned at the implication, but that soon turned into a snicker when he heard Grace's reply. "What the fuck is a mellon nín?" she snapped. "I speak ENGLISH – I don't understand that damn language!"

Surprised and slightly offended, Nuada decided to try his question again. "What did that man do to anger you?" he asked, pointing to Haldir.

Ok – that question made perfect sense. "He came out of nowhere and grabbed me," Grace growled back angrily, "and I can't stand for people to put their hands on me! It pisses me off!" She backed that statement up by putting her own hands on her hips, standing there barefoot to glare at Haldir like she was ten feet tall. Grace didn't give a shit where she was, or how pretty that weird man with his silver hair was, there was no way some smart ass pointy eared jerk was going to manhandle her!

Glaring right back, Haldir forgot all about Nuada, his entire body going rigid in anger. "You ungrateful little human, I saved you from falling!" he growled out in return, "and that's on top of saving your life last night!"

Grace's expression left very little doubt what she recommended that towering marchwarden do with himself and that snotty glare he was raking over her, but as his words sank in Grace suddenly remembered a little bit of what went on between them last night . . . and it involved his lips! She gasped in horror then exploded. "You . . .you . . . you put your fucking mouth all over me after that thing chewed on me? What kind of sick pervert are you? My god you are twisted! I swear if you ever put your fucking hands – or your mouth - on me again, I will make it the last thing you ever do!" She was shaking she was so angry, her voice weak but her threats perfectly clear, even her eyes spitting tiny sparkles of poison in his direction.

The insinuations and threats nearly sent Haldir into a rage. The arrogance of that paltry mortal standing across from him defied logic, and Haldir had to fight to contain himself. Being forced to help a human was insulting enough, but being misjudged and threatened by one was something else entirely. His very soul burned in disgust, and Haldir of Lórien would have liked nothing more than to choke Grace stiff at that very moment. How dare that insignificant little mortal threaten him!

Seething, Haldir instinctively took a step toward her, only to find himself instantly shoved against the marble wall behind him. Grace was about to show Haldir what she thought of him, while he was seriously considering reciprocating. They were both on the verge of breaking into an all out brawl, and Nuada knew he needed to intervene. Stepping between the two of them, Nuada began speaking softly to Grace, both his mind and voice telling her to listen. "Erulissë, that man means you no harm, . . . release him please . . . you are perfectly safe, I guarantee it," he assured her gently.

She hesitated for a moment, then almost thankfully relented, leaning back against the balcony railing. Angry adrenaline was the only thing keeping her on her feet, but even that strength was beginning to ebb so if Nuada wanted to take care of "Mr. Moon Man" he was more than welcome to because in a minute, she was probably going to be on the floor.

Nuada gave her a comforting look as he walked to her side, but Haldir was quick to offer a warning. "I would not do that if I were you. Given her foul disposition, I would not be surprised if she tossed you off this terrace."

Even with a pounding headache and growing nausea, Grace managed to pass Haldir yet another vicious look, oblivious to her growing weakness. "You asshole! I would never!" she snarled, glaring at him some more. "At least Nuada had the common decency to tell me his name, and that's more than I can say for your rude ass!"

Rendered speechless by her insults, Haldir's fury at the small human woman grew by the second, but a warning look from Nuada cooled it. He was now standing directly in front of Grace, and he extended a hand to her politely. "Take my hand, Erulissë . . . I promise there is nothing to fear. You must trust me to take care of you."

Never had five fingers and one palm been more intimidating, and Grace actually began to tremble as she considering taking hold of them. The very idea of placing blanket trust in any creature was appalling but add to it the horrid circumstances Grace had suddenly found herself in, and it was a monumental undertaking – yet Grace found herself desperately wanting to do it. Nuada's appearance was frightening to no end, yet for some inexplicable reason she found his presence strangely soothing, providing an almost palpable comfort. It seemed as if Nuada had bewitched some hidden part of her soul, and deep down, Grace knew she could trust this creature.

"You're different," Grace murmured almost to herself, reaching to take his hand.

Her burning grey eyes were so fixated on him, Nuada felt as if Grace was plundering his very soul, but the moment their fingers met, the blue fire burning in their depths went out, instantly extinguished right along with every other blue flame on her body, and Grace folded like a deck of cards. Thankfully, Nuada was expecting it and readily caught her, carefully collecting her in his arms.

Grace did not have the strength to resist, and there was no need. Her trust was not misplaced. Never would Amarande Nuada allow anything to harm that fragile human girl, and he was nothing short of professional as he returned Grace to that beautiful bedchamber. She was teetering on the edge of passing out completely, so he carefully settled her against the piles of pillows. "Stay still," he ordered, quickly disappearing to collect some linens, then surprising her with his gentleness when he returned and began packing them around her neck and shoulder. "That will hold for now, but saes, please do not attempt to get up again until these wounds have been tended to," he instructed.

Grace managed to nod, but she was still trembling and tears now rolled down the bruises that marred her face. The enormity and strangeness of her situation had steamrolled over her the second those angry flames left, and Nuada could tell that Grace was both scared to death and in terrible pain. He eased to sit beside her, saying nothing, although the powerful and comforting hand he placed on her arm said it for him. His words on that balcony had been sincere ones, and on his very life, Nuada could assure Grace that she would never be harmed in such a way again. His soothing presence in combination with sheer emotional and physical exhaustion quickly won over, and Grace succumbed, sinking into the welcome darkness of oblivion.

Nuada was somewhat relieved when Grace drifted off, knowing sleep was the best thing for her at this point. He hoped it would make her feel at least a tiny bit better, but when he returned to that balcony, he found Haldir feeling anything but better. That elf was furious, purely simmering in anger over the things Grace had done.

"Le suilon, Haldir of Lórien," Nuada offered, greeting the marchwarden properly now that they were alone. "Would you care to explain to me what is happening with the Pinilyaer? I would like to know more of your words . . . that you saved her life this past evening . . . with your mouth?" Nuada's tone was polite, but a faint condescending tone lingered. It complimented the faint smile that had returned to his face when he walked back outside, and Haldir knew exactly why it was there - he just got his ass kicked – by a little human girl!

The warden answered with a bone-chilling glare, just daring Nuada not to wipe that damn smirk off his face. "I saved her life with my blood, not my mouth, and that Pinilyaer is the great-grandchild of Lord Niall. As you can obviously see, she was terribly injured – attacked by some putrid creature called a vampire. Much blood was lost, and I fear in order to save and protect her, it was necessary that she be brought to Rivendell, and that I share my blood with her. I did indeed save her life this past evening, yet in spite of my kindness, she refuses to even speak to me. Then I attempt to assist her when she begins to swoon, and she assaults me! Captures me almost as if in an invisible fist and throws me to the floor - and her appearance! I have seen fey, have seen the shimmer of pixie dust, and the oddly winged creatures of Nárthea, but I have never seen the flesh of a human glow like a firefly at night! And not only does she possess the power to toss me about like a leaf in the wind, she somehow healed my hand in the process! Without a doubt, that Pinilyaer is the most peculiar creature that I have seen in ages!"

Nuada glanced at the outstretched palm Haldir offered as proof, then turned a concerned eye to the sky. A soft almost sad rain had begun to fall, and it erased all traces of amusement from that guardian's face. His brain had been boiling from the very first sentence out of Haldir's mouth - _that Pinilyaer is the great-grandchild of Lord Niall_ – a revelation that had wrenched a memory from the depths of Nuada's mind, telling him exactly where he had seen those odd grey eyes before. It was a family trait, inherited no doubt from Niall's son Dermont, who himself bore striking physical similarities and shared fey traits with none other than Lord Vadimás himself – an idea that chilled Nuada's very blood. Vadimás had been a ridiculously powerful sylph, or elemental fey, and Dermot was the mirror image of him. If Grace was descended from Dermot as he now suspected, and she had inherited even a fraction of the power and abilities that creature possessed, there was no telling what that girl might be capable of.

"Something you wish to share?" Haldir prompted. He had been watching a wild array of emotions cross Nuada's face, and became more concerned by the moment. The guardian did not look pleased.

"I am familiar with earth vampires," Nuada finally answered. "They are night walkers who feast on the blood of humans, and even the faintest trace of fairy blood is irresistible to them, so I am not surprised to hear of Erulissë's problems. Such things happen more often than you would imagine, and it was most kind of you to assist in saving her. Now, as for the appearance of her flesh, that is no more than evidence of her fey background manifesting itself – the fairy fire. It is unusual to see it burn in such a way, but given the girl's physical and emotional state I am not entirely surprised. She fears for her life, and wishes only to protect herself – which is why she took hold of you. You would be wise to stay wary of her since she is obviously a _nettie."_

"A nettie?" Haldir answered, looking confused. "Never have I heard of such a thing."

Nuada smirked, not surprised that Haldir was not familiar with fey slang. An elf would no doubt find the term derogatory and therefore offensive to their perfect morals! "The word _nettie_ is nothing more than an affectionate term for those possessing the fey gift of telekinetics. Where you and I possess the power to communicate silently with our minds, a nettie can move things with theirs. It is simply a different type of mental power, and a fey can possess the gift of either, but never both. In Nárthea there are others like Erulissë, and they are known as netties."

"Well that nettie needs her wounds tended less she need to receive more blood from me – and that is an experience I believe none of us would soon forget . . . that is unless you plan to perform your trick again?" Haldir said, intentionally baiting Nuada. "Because that was quite a neat trick - to out those flames and drain her strength with no more than a touch - is that why you are here? Has Niall asked you here to control that girl?"

Nuada considered Haldir carefully across the balcony. He did not honestly know why Niall had demanded he come to this place, and he certainly did not owe that marchwarden an explanation for his appearance . . . yet it would appear they were both involved in this odd situation, and if Haldir saved the girl's life, he was certainly deserving of one. "My presence was indeed requested by Lord Niall. I am a guardian, so my best assumption for being asked here is that he wishes me to ensure Erulissë's safety once she is returned to the earth realm. As for controlling her, I cannot say . . . but that trick as you call it, is no more than a necessary skill – a very useful tool of my trade."

 _"Yeah, the trade of killing people,"_ Haldir added silently to himself, a fact that perplexed him greatly. Since when was a trained mercenary called into service to look over a human girl?   
It was a trivial, almost demeaning task, and Haldir wondered just how much compensation it took to persuade Nuada to come there, because personally there wasn't enough mithril in all the elven realm . . . hey, just wait one minute! . . . he had been ordered to do the exact same thing by Lord Elrond – and he was doing it for free! Simmering under a renewed dose of disgust, Haldir turned to stalk off the balcony. The sooner he could consult with Elrond and get that girl's wounds tended, hopefully, the sooner he could leave this intolerable situation behind!

Nuada followed close behind him and the two men arrived at the courtyard table together, thankful for the welcome protection the gazebo it was situated under offered from the rain. Both wanted information about this odd mortal they now found themselves entangled with, but the powerful trio seated there was just as anxious for information from them. Elrond, Niall and Gandalf had watched that odd scene play out on the balcony, and they were most interested to hear how Grace was now that it was over.

"How is she? How is Grace feeling today?" Niall asked, full of concern. The elegant fairy had just suffered through a blistering lecture from Lord Elrond, fully deserving his brother's condemnation both for luring Grace to Shreveport, and for not having enough sense to assign her a guardian after discovering her, and the guilt was threatening to overwhelm him. He knew he was very much to blame for this strange circumstance they all found themselves in, and the entire time he had watched her on that balcony, his head had pounded harder and harder. He could not bear to know that she had been wounded because of his meddling.

"I would not know," Haldir answered haughtily. "Since waking the Pinilyaer refuses to allow my touch. If she will not allow me to tend her wounds, then she will be hard pressed to heal."

"Well you had better find a way to persuade her," Niall growled out instantly in return, "because I can assure you that those wounds will be tended and she will heal!"

"Which is why I stand here intending to speak to Lord Elrond of her condition," Haldir seethed in return. "That Pinilyaer . . . that _nettie_ is one of the most intolerable creatures I have ever encountered! Not only is she dangerous - using her tele-whatever mind power as a weapon against me - she possesses one of the most foul demeanors and offensive vocabularies I have ever been subjected to! I am most willing to assist her, but not at the expense of being thrown to the floor and crushed against the walls of Imladris!"

"You will . . ." Niall replied, only to be cut off by Nuada.

"Stop!" the mercenary ordered loudly. "Niall, you know well as I, an elven marchwarden knows nothing of how to handle an irate human girl, and if you wish to know of her condition, you have only look around." Nuada emphasized his words by stepping over to the magnificent palms sitting clustered in pots around the gazebo. They were hanging forlorn with drooping leaves, almost as if they were on the verge of death, and he took hold of a branch, shaking it in irritation in the fairy's direction. "You might have mentioned the girl was a sylph . . . or did you think no one would notice? A quality no doubt inherited from her grandfather, Dermot I assume?" Nuada's eyes and voice had grown colder with every word and he spat the name Dermot out like it was a piece of rancid food he could not wait to be rid of.

Elrond and Niall exchanged wary glances as everyone began to study the landscaping around them - particularly the area closest to the bedchamber where she lay. The plants seemed to be in pitiful condition, a fact only emphasized by the misty rain that continued to fall. It was as if the very sky was weeping, and as everyone's eyes shifted from the sky to those sad bushes and back again, they knew if that was the way Grace felt, she felt pretty damn bad.

"Very well, Nuada," Niall said calmly, "you are correct. Grace is descended of Dermot, and obviously after what we have witnessed, I cannot protest that she is a nettie, nor can I argue that she may also have inherited his traits as an elemental, but while I have long suspected that the girl possessed great hidden strength, I will tell you that during the two years I have watched her, I have never seen sign of the things I see here this day! And as to her demeanor or language, I have never spoken to the girl directly, but she has always appeared to be the most mild mannered and easy going creature I have ever contemplated."

"Well might I be the first to tell you, that while Erulissë may have been the most pleasant creature imaginable prior to coming here, at the present time she is nothing of the sort," Nuada answered somewhat harshly. "It would appear that she has not only assumed the fey traits of your beloved son, she has inherited those heart warming personality traits of his as well!"

The sarcasm dripping from Nuada's voice was tangible, and Niall frowned desperately. He was attempting to keep his expression carefully guarded but his emotions shown nonetheless: pain, remorse . . .regret. The fairy never spoke of Dermot, and he did not care to speak of him now. "I am well aware of the shortcomings of my son's personality, and that is not the issue here. What is important is the condition of my great-grandchild, and that is what I would appreciate you putting your attention on." Niall's voice was strained, but his message was clear – stop talking about Dermot, and focus on the problem at hand.

"Very well," Haldir interjected, "How is it that the Pinilyaer just threw me to the floor, yet could not defend herself against the creature who attacked her? You say you have never seen such things from her before she was brought to this place . . . well, what has changed? Why is it in one case this nettie power works for her, yet in another it does not?" Haldir posed his question to the entire group, ready to accept input from anyone with a reasonable explanation. Was the girl simply unpredictable, had something changed, did she simply hate him because she thought he kissed her?

"Perhaps the girl was simply too frightened to react properly," Elrond finally offered, "but I fear this is more likely a result of what we have done." His statement hung over them like the deep grey clouds overhead, looming and ominous. No one was entirely certain they wanted to hear the expanded version of that explanation – what had they done exactly?

"As Niall has explained to me, the fey blood is not strong within either of these human descendants – not in Grace, not in Sookie – it is but a gentle spark capable of only small things. Sookie can hear the thoughts of others, yet she cannot manipulate them as we can, cannot erase or shatter them, cannot shift her position as we are capable of. The power is there, yet only a tiny bit peeks through."

Everyone nodded. The explanation seemed very reasonable so far.

"Now imagine the consequences if that spark were to be fed . . . would it not grow? Become stronger? More powerful? Think what we have done – we have forced that child to consume the blood of an immortal elf, blood that contains the power of immortality – the power of the Marchwarden General Haldir of Lórien, warrior of the Galadhrim. We have fed that hidden spark, and I fear through the very act of saving the Pinilyaer's life, we have forever changed it. Through Haldir's blood a simple spark has now become a roaring flame, and we ourselves are now responsible for controlling it."

Elrond's words drew the color from everyone's faces, and Nuada exchanged wary glances with Haldir. It did not take above average intelligence to figure out who was to be saddled with the unenviable task of controlling Grace . . . and they were it. Lord Niall had gone so pale, he was nearly translucent, and an elegant hand was now clutched over his chest. "Brother, you know of Dermot's ways," he hissed, almost under his breath. "He is evil, you know this! Does that now mean that Grace will be as well? Is that child a danger to us . . . to your home?" The fairy's stress level had increased exponentially as Elrond spoke. Not only had be caused Grace to be injured, now he was to find out through saving her life, they had turned her into some type of supernatural mongrel by giving her immortal elf blood, amplifying the powers she inherited from his evil and powerful elemental son. It was enough to make his heart lurch, and his head threaten to explode – both things that nearly happened when Nuada's angry voice came tearing through that gazebo.

"Do you believe every creature should be judged by that from which it came?" The guardian snapped angrily.

"They most certainly should not," Gandalf immediately answered, seeking to soothe everyone. The powerful wizard had been deep in thought, his mind busy working as he leaned back in his chair, casually puffing on his pipe as he listened. He was extremely well educated in all things magical, including the talents of the fey, and he had a very different opinion of this situation than the others.

"Now rest easy, mellyn nin. The Pinilyaer is not a danger, nor can she be faulted for her actions. If we were in her place, I do not believe our dispositions would be any more favorable . . . and this situation is being presented as complicated and ominous, when it is neither. A fey youngling has simply discovered the power within her - and what do you do with a youngling? You teach them! You instruct them and show them what to do. So it will be with the Pinilyaer. The first order of business is to heal the child, then she must be taught of these things and shown how to control herself. She will have to be trained."

The disturbed look exchanged between Haldir and Nuada became a downright bug eyed stare now, because they knew they were screwed. They got to heal the human, they got to control the human, they got to train the human. Well hallelujah wasn't this gonna be fun!

Poor Haldir's frown deepened almost as if someone had screws to his head, tightening them with every word, and he found himself unable to contain his thoughts. He thrust his hand out for all to see the now perfectly healed palm where less than an hour before a terrible gash had been. "I trust your words Gandalf, but how would being descended from a nettie and an elemental give the Pinilyaer the ability to heal my hand? Is Dermot a healer as well? If not, where does this strange power of healing come from if not from sorcery? And if Grace can manipulate my flesh, why then can she not simply heal herself?" Gandalf might believe that Grace was not a danger, but the girl truly alarmed him. Just as she did not appreciate people touching her, Haldir did not appreciate someone manipulating his flesh without permission, even if the results had been favorable. It was simply not acceptable, and if the girl could heal him, then why not herself?

Laying down his pipe, the wizard shook his head softly, his long silky white hair brushing over his shoulders as his face creased into a gentle smile. "Elrond, you of all creatures should know the answer to that question," he said, passing an almost teasing expression toward his friend. "Are you not the one who has lamented for ages that no other descendant of your father, Lord Vadimás, has ever possessed the magnificent spirit of healing, only yourself? We all know that the fey traits can remain dormant for many generations only to suddenly appear again, and so it seems with the Pinilyaer. The Valar have shown much favor to the little one laying yonder in blessing her with such an influential gift. Perhaps they know that one who has suffered so much pain, will also be worthy of erasing such pain from others."

"Then why has this not shown itself before now?" Niall interrupted harshly. "Certainly you intend to add more to your words than that! I agree with Haldir. How can it be that Grace possesses the power to heal, yet she herself lays there wounded and in pain? To think of what she endured after that accident . . . it makes no sense to me!"

Gandalf cast a gentle gaze to the obviously distressed fairy, knowing this was a most difficult time for him. Niall was suffering under the knowledge that one of his great-grandchildren was wounded and incapable of helping themselves. "Calm yourself Niall . . ." the wizard said soothingly. "If the child's other powers have been enhanced by the blood of an immortal, then why not the power of healing as well? Before last night, I would imagine the girl could not have healed a wounded moth, yet if she can now heal such wounds as Haldir's hand, oh what a wonderful thing! The continuance of the most magnificent quality of your royal bloodline! You should be most pleased," he finished, casting a kind look toward both brothers in turn.

Elrond in fact did seem rather pleased, but Gandalf's inspiring words did not have the desired effect on Niall. That fairy was anything but pleased, becoming more and more agitated and distraught by the second, the deterioration of his demeanor forcing Elrond to seek comforting words for his brother as well. "Niall . . . brother listen to me. Think of Savan, think of myself . . . yes, we are healers, yet neither of us possesses the power to heal ourselves. Were I to be wounded, I would have to call for help, just as the girl there. This is a typical thing." He paused, knowing his brother was worried for her health and safety, for her very life. "Rest easy Niall, the girl will indeed heal in time. You have not lost Grace . . . she will be well again."

All but cringing, Haldir's mind returned to the original reason for his visit to that table. His request for assistance had not been satisfied, but taking in the discouraged expression of that fairy lord, he decided it best not to press the issue. Instead, he tucked tail to leave, the poor elf knowing the only option for him was to get his ass into that bedchamber and start healing the girl. The sooner Grace felt better, the sooner Elrond's beloved plants recovered, and hopefully the faster he would be allowed to return to his home and proper duties!

After bowing his respects, he turned to leave, muttering almost to himself. "As much as the Pinilyaer may resist, I am going to tend her wounds now. Saes, please recover my body if she flings me from the terrace railing . . . my brothers will insist on a proper burial." It was a terrible comment, yet it drew smiles and chuckles all around. The poor elf was serious!

"Mellon nín, worry not, I intend to join you," Nuada offered. "Erulissë seemed to find my presence soothing, so perhaps I can persuade her to allow your touch, but if she resists or becomes too agitated, I will place her under a sleep spell. It will be much better if she can accept the two of us as friends, but rest assured, the wounds will be tended regardless. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Haldir answered, looking at Nuada strangely as they fell into step together. The extension of assistance seemed out of place for the blond warrior, and typically, Haldir would have told him exactly what to do with that offer. The Marchwarden General of Lothlórien needed protection and help from no one, least of all a mercenary! This, however, was a very atypical situation, and for once he was thrilled to have Nuada come along.

Upon entering the bedchamber, they found Grace curled up in a tiny ball, tucked against the headboard of that enormous four poster bed almost as if for protection. She had somehow managed to gather every pillow in the room around her, and she was deep in the center of them, seeming small and vulnerable, almost like a butterfly with a broken wing. The sight pulled at their heartstrings, and they approached the bed together, Nuada easing to sit beside her while Haldir hovered close behind.

"Little One? Erulissë?" Nuada called quietly, placing a gentle hand on her arm in case she became upset when she woke. The touch startled her, and Grace instinctively cried out, clutching the pillow closest to her. "Shhh . . . it is alright Pinilyaer. You have nothing to fear, remember?"

Grace remembered alright, and the fear came piling up inside her. Her body felt broken, her head on the verge of exploding, and those two warriors were a terrifying sight to wake up to – particularly when you'd just been gnawed on by a vampire. She began to shake she was so frightened, and Nuada worried that she would begin to cry again. He sought to soothe her. "Erulissë, you are safe, I swear it. Now, saes, please calm yourself. It is most important that your wounds be tended before you lose any more blood and grow weaker. Will you please allow him to look at them?" Nuada asked gently.

Grace fought to focus her eyes as she looked at Nuada uncertainly, then glanced over his shoulder at Haldir. She could not argue how bad she felt, but that didn't mean she wanted the angel man's hands back on her either – especially after the balcony incident earlier - and they just didn't even need to talk about the whole lip thing! "Why? Is he a doctor?" she asked in a weak voice, feeling too poorly to be rude.

Haldir frowned. He had never heard the word "doctor" before, but Nuada quickly answered. "Yes Erulissë, he is a healer, and I fear there has been a misunderstanding between you. He means only to help you, and he will gladly tend your injuries if you will allow it. I give you my word he will not harm you. Now tell me, will you allow him to help you? I know you want to feel better."

Grace thought about that long and hard, a careful gaze sliding from one man to the other and back again. Yes, she did want to feel better, and Nuada certainly looked like he could back up that guarantee . . . and the angel man had seemed nice enough when the met the first time. Perhaps there had been a misunderstanding. "Alright, he can look at my neck, but only if ya'll answer some questions," she countered.

"We would be glad to," Nuada answered immediately, thankful that Grace was willing to engage in any type of conversation with them. He had a very pleasant look as he began to get up, but a small tanned hand on his arm stopped him.

"Are you gonna leave?" she asked, looking very distraught.

"No, I simply moving out of the way so I do not interfere. I will be just over there," Nuada told her reassuringly, seeing the obvious relief on her face at his promise. He patted her hand, then got up, stepping to the other side of the room to observe. If Haldir was the one who would be tending to Grace, it was important that she trust him as well.

With Nuada out of the way, Grace gave Haldir another thorough look, positive he was still pissed at her about earlier. Her eyes never left him as he eased to sit beside her just as he had before. They stared at each other uncertainly, then Grace broke the awkward silence. "What's your name?" she asked.

Her voice sounded very small in that huge room, and Haldir found himself surprised that his name was the first thing she would want to know. "I am Haldir of Lórien, the Marchwarden of the Galadhrim, General of the Guard to the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel," he answered proudly.

Grace looked at Haldir like he was reading the encyclopedia. WTF? She just wanted to know what to call the man, and that grocery list of foreign names was far more than her frazzled brain needed or wanted at that particular moment. "Is there a short version?" Grace asked impatiently. She was ready for him to get on with the doctoring if it was gonna make her head stop pounding – and until it stopped pounding, there wasn't a way in hell she was remembering all that crap.

"You may call me Haldir," he answered, secretly curious to know what his name would sound like in her strange way of speaking. Haldir found languages to be fascinating and enjoying learning more of them. He also enjoyed hearing them spoken in various tongues, and he found Grace's peculiar southern twang – even though he had heard only a few words in it – to be one of the more interesting methods of speech he'd ever encountered. His curiosity burned to know how a human from the earth realm would articulate and pronounce things.

"H a l d i r," Grace drawled out. "That's a very pretty name."

It was? The kind comment genuinely surprised Haldir. He had never received a compliment on his name before and certainly not one from a female. That female also pronounced his name as oddly as he expected her to, but he was still quite offended by Grace's earlier threats and disinclined to be swayed by kind words - even a seemingly genuine compliment. He struggled to remind himself of Gandalf's earlier words, and to remember how he might feel if he was the one in that bed instead. "Thank you," he answered politely. "Now, in order for me to tend your wounds, I will be required to touch you, and we must also get you upright . . . is that acceptable to you? Will you allow me to assist you, Pinilyaer?"

"Why'd you put your mouth on mine?" Grace asked suddenly, unable to contain herself from asking the question any longer. That perfect rosy pout was simply too close to ignore, and if it had been pressed to hers, she damn well wanted to know why.

Haldir frowned slightly, but remained steady as he answered. "It was a necessary part of my . . . assisting . . . you last night, I fear. Much of your blood had been lost to that creature, and in order to save your life, you required more. I only did what I felt was necessary to ensure your survival."

Survival? Well, that's a nice word, Grace thought, casually playing with the torn blanket edges. Much nicer than the alternative as a matter of fact - and she'd repaid her savior by throwing him across the balcony. Hmmmm . . . Certainly not a very good example of her deeply rooted southern manners, that's for sure. She needed to apologize. _I'd rather eat dirt._ She needed to apologize. _He put his lips on mine._ She needed to apologize. _He used his tongue too. Oh shit!_ She needed to apologize . . .

"Apology accepted," Haldir said firmly, shocking Grace to the pits of her soul.

 _Haldir was reading her fucking mind?_ It was worse than knowing his mouth had been on hers, and Grace suddenly felt like her brain was a Sunday buffet at an all-you-can eat restaurant. What the hell else were these men reading from her mind? What the hell else could these men do? Strange world, strange men, strange ears – now mind readers? Not good. "You stop that right now!" Grace managed to hiss, although she could put little heat behind her words. She was too tired and weak to do much protesting, but that didn't mean she'd go quietly either.

"Do not fear me, Grace," Haldir told her in a soothing tone. "Just as you possess the power to manipulate things with your mind, elves possess the ability to hear the thoughts of others. I did not realize it would be frightening to you . . . it is simply one of the ways we use to communicate. I am not attempting to intrude upon your private thoughts. I only wish to understand how you are feeling, so I can better assist you."

"Then ask," Grace snapped.

Her voice had gone cold as ice, but Haldir remained perfectly composed. Grace was in a very weakened state, and he did not believe she was capable of repeating that balcony performance, and even if she tried, Nuada was there to stop her now – him and his neat little trick. He had nothing to fear of the girl.

"Very well. If it offends you, I will gladly stop, but if you refuse to speak with me then how am I to assist you? I have been trusted with your physical care. It is my duty to help you feel better," Haldir told her.

"Well how am I supposed to know if you stopped or not?" she asked sarcastically. "You might be lying."

"Elves do not lie, Pinilyaer," Haldir answered firmly. "Truth is one of the most important foundations of our existence."

The fog holding Grace's mind hostage slowly eased its grip as she what just came out of Haldir's mouth . . . Elves? Well, thank god she wasn't drinking something, because she would've snorted it. He simply had to be kidding! They had pointed ears because they were freaking elves? No flipping way! Suddenly Grace forgot all about mind reading. She forgot all about her head hurting, she forgot all about everything else in the world. Instead, she found herself inexplicably snickering, even though she quickly tried to stifle it because of the pain it caused her. These drop dead gorgeous warrior men were _elves_? No flipping way.

Her muddled mind instantly flooded with memories of Santa Clause and little people in green suits and pointed shoes, and that gorgeous creature sitting on that bed most certainly did not fit that description – neither did the blond one across the room. Elves? Ha! That was one of the funniest things she'd ever heard in her life. Unable to stop herself, Grace fell into a fit of giggles, clamping her hand over her mouth to try and stifle them, but she failed miserably. She busted out in a fit of laughter that would have made Santa Claus himself proud, and all Haldir and Nuada could do is watch and listen in stunned amazement as she laid in that bed and laughed her little ass off.

After a few moments, Haldir began to frown desperately, wondering why Grace thought that information was so funny. "Is that humorous to you?" he asked, looking at her oddly. He was beginning to wonder if she'd been struck on the head the night before . . .

Hearing his snappy tone, Grace was positive she had offended Haldir, although a quick glance across the room revealed Nuada trying to stifle a few chuckles himself. It made her feel a little better, and she fought back her laughter, finally reducing her giggles to a lopsided, swollen lipped smile. "No, there isn't a thing funny about you," she answered seriously, but her eyes still danced with laughter, right along with those visions of Santa still parading through her head, "and you don't look like any elf I've ever seen."

That comment drew a very odd look as Haldir contemplated how a human could've ever seen an elf before. They kept themselves carefully hidden when they traveled to her world . . . no one except the fairies was even aware of their existence! He felt genuinely perplexed as he ever so gently took hold of Grace and gingerly assisted her into a sitting position. He was extremely relieved when nothing happened, and his tension soon morphed into more curiosity. It was strange to be so close to any female, and that tank top she had on was very open necked and quite stretchy . . . the complete opposite of traditional elven female clothes . . . and Haldir found himself studying her unusual bronzed skin and the little jewels that sparkled in her earlobes.

She was a very unusual creature, but soon devotion to duty overrode natural elven inquisitiveness, and he methodically went to work removing the various bandages he had covered the wound with during the night. It was a terrible mess. The bandages presented an unappealing mixture of sodden linen pieces mixed with others glued to her flesh by dark dried blood. Haldir ever so carefully tried to work them off her without causing further harm, leaning in closer and closer as he concentrated solely on his task.

Soon, Grace could feel his breath against her skin, the warmth of it throwing tiny little tingles up her spine . . . and at some point, that strange platinum hair came to brush across her arm and fingers. Feeling those silky tendrils tracing against her skin, Grace suddenly found herself overwhelmed by this creature's very presence. Her breath shortened, and her heart raced as his gentle fingers brushed against her flesh, his hands working along the length of her collarbone, against the rounded curve of her shoulder. Within moments she felt as if the very blood in her veins was getting warmer . . . the strangest physical feeling she had ever experienced in her life . . . and she found herself flushed by the time his task was accomplished and Haldir moved away, excusing himself to retrieve new bandages and some supplies to clean the wounds.

"How are you holding up, Erulissë?" Nuada asked once Haldir had gone, stepping a bit closer to take a good look at the now exposed wounds on her neck and shoulders. They were worse than he imagined, and the guardian frowned. Keeping the girl safe back in the human world might require more effort than he realized.

'I'm . . . I'm alright," Grace stammered, fighting to collect herself. She had no idea what was wrong with her, but being so close to Haldir was really beginning to get under her skin! There was no denying the man was absolutely gorgeous, but she'd never had such a strange reaction to a man before in her life. She felt like a dog in heat, and she prayed like hell Nuada was not listening to what she was thinking! Thankfully, her racing thoughts were soon interrupted by Haldir's return, but as he politely returned to work cleaning the bites and tears, the strange warmth Grace felt returned as well. Frowning, Grace began to study him intently, and Haldir suddenly became aware of her intense focus on him. Concerned he had offended her, he immediately stopped and pulled his hands away.

"What are doing to me?" Grace demanded, her eyes burning with curiosity as they ran over every inch of him. She wanted to know if he was manipulating her mind again somehow, forcing her to feel this strange warmth every time he got close to her.

"I do not understand what it is you ask of me, Pinilyaer," Haldir replied uncertainly. He was no longer listening to her thoughts, and he did not know what had upset her. "I am only trying to clean and tend these terrible wounds. Do you wish me to stop?"

Those contented little hands that had been mindlessly twisting the torn pieces of that blanket had stilled. Grace wanted to feel better – but she did not want to feel this strange warmth she felt every time Haldir sat on that bed beside her. It felt like her very blood was trying to crawl from her veins and go to him – almost as if it was on fire from his very presence. She was actually beginning to flush, but stopped to remind herself that it was probably nothing more than a slight fever or general weakness. Lord knows she deserved to feel a little off after what she'd just been through! "No, everything's fine," she finally answered, in a careful monotone.

Now frowning himself, Haldir returned to work cleaning her neck. The bites were open and bleeding, and he hoped he would not have to give her blood again. The very idea worried him greatly, and to make matters worse, he knew Grace had just told him a lie. His presence was bothering her in some way – and her presence was bothering him as well - he knew that because he'd just cleaned the exact same spot on her shoulder for the third time! The night also seemed unseasonably warm, and he found himself feeling a bit flushed as he struggled to concentrate on her wounds . . . a flush turned into an all out horrified blush and a warmth that intensified to monumental levels when Haldir suddenly felt a little human hand start plundering through his hair.

Grace had been studying Haldir the entire time he was cleaning her shoulder, working that elf over with her eyes, and she was awestruck by that hair of his. Human men rarely had long hair, but his was over half-way down his back, and it reminded her of the color of moonlight, almost as if silver beams had been captured and secretly spun into it. Luminescent even in the soft light of that room, it seemed to scintillate with an almost ethereal glow. Grace thought it was simply breathtaking, and as she struggled to keep her mind off the uncomfortable warmth she felt and the pain he was inadvertently causing her, she'd become more and more focused on it. Finally, without even thinking of what she was doing, Grace reached out and touched it, taking hold of a braid and gently beginning to study it.

The unexpected invasion caught Haldir completely off guard, and he froze, the shock of the provocative sensations obvious in his face as his widened eyes came over to meet hers. "Oh god, I'm sorry!" Grace exclaimed, instantly snatching her hand away. She knew she'd just invaded Haldir's personal space on a much more serious level than he did hers on that balcony earlier, and he had every right to be furious. Cringing, she waited for the explosion to come, passing a wary glance to Nuada. She prayed he would pull that elf off her if need be.

Nuada did not move, and thankfully, neither did Haldir. The silver haired elf simply looked Grace over carefully. Her obviously disturbed expression told him the girl meant no harm, so even though it was quite distracting to have her running her fingers through his hair like that, he took a deep breath and smiled softly. He did not want to break their fragile truce over something so simple, and he was very careful not to sound angry when he spoke. "Do not apologize. Are there not humans with hair the likeness of mine?"

Relieved he was not mad at her, Grace tried to offer a pleasant look in return, although it was fairly impossible given the distorted shape of her face. "No," she said with relief, "I've never seen anything close to the color of your hair . . . or Nuada's."

"Many of the silvan elves share it. It is not uncommon in my region," Haldir answered, surprised when Grace stared at him in complete disbelief.

She may not have died and gone to heaven, but Grace was beginning to wonder if she'd found the next best thing. Mother of god Haldir was good looking, and now he was telling her there was a whole community full of men that looked like him? Living no doubt in another perfect place that looked like this one? Good heavens, Grace could not begin to imagine – but she'd like to – and she found herself wondering if there was a community of blonds that looked like Nuada somewhere too . . .

Feeling oddly pleased by her stunned expression, Haldir went back to work on her neck, while across the room Nuada had turned to stare out the window, hiding the fact that he was chuckling again. Unlike Haldir, he did not promise to stop listening to Grace's thoughts, and he was enjoying each and every word – particularly those pertaining to him!

Fortunately, she did not provide him with any more impromptu entertainment. Haldir had finally finished cleaning her neck and shoulder, and after packing them with the herbal mixture Lord Elrond provided, he bandaged everything tightly to stop the bleeding. He made every effort to be gentle, but it hurt like hell and Grace was both mentally and physically exhausted by the time he finished. Her brain could hardly form a coherent thought, although there was one thing that had become a constant nag . . . something that needed to be addressed. Grabbing hold of Haldir's arm as he collected everything from the bed and prepared to leave, Grace finally got the nerve to ask what she'd been wanting to since the moment her eyes opened. "Where is the bathroom?"

Haldir frowned at her. "Bathroom?" he repeated. "I do not know this word."

Grace gave him an impatient look, and across the room Nuada's head swung round to listen, not believing what he just heard. That girl had been here almost twenty-four hours, and Haldir had not even taken her to the bathroom? "The bathing chambers, Haldir!" he explained impatiently.

Haldir was instantly embarrassed that he had not attended to her most basic of needs, and quickly came to his feet, pulling Grace up after him. She nearly fell when the dizziness hit her, and once again Haldir caught her, although fortunately, her response was not the same this time. Instead, she remained calm, although being cradled against the chest of a man with pointed ears was one of the strangest positions she'd ever found herself in – although it wasn't an unpleasant one. Haldir had a unique woodsy smell unlike anything else she'd encountered, and Grace found both the scent and the feeling of his arms around her to be peculiarly alluring . . . she began to feel even hotter.

Feeling his heart beat a little faster than it should, Haldir was feeling a bit hotter himself, and carefully eased Grace away from him. "Please, allow me to assist you," he told her.

The arm he placed around her was as gentle as his voice, and under Nuada's watchful gaze, Haldir carefully guided Grace out the single doorway and down a very wide corridor. She was disappointed to see absolutely nothing remarkable as they walked. Everything looked the same as her room . . . the same white walls and carved woodwork . . . and no people. They didn't go far before they came to another doorway, only thankfully this one had a door.

Haldir gestured that this was it, with a very concerned and hesitant look on his face. "Can you manage?" he asked hesitantly.

Hell yeah she could manage, because no way was that elf wasn't coming in there to help! "I got this," she answered firmly, opening the door and gingerly walking inside. It wasn't like any modern bathroom she'd ever seen, but Grace figured out how things worked and took care of the necessities, emerging feeling much more like herself.

Haldir was waiting just where he'd been when she went in, and the gentle arm instantly returned. They walked back to the room very slowly, and Grace assessed the beautiful elf as they did. He was tall, much taller than she was and he moved effortlessly and silently, as if he didn't even touch the ground. His touch was gentle and comforting, and Grace was surprised how safe he made her feel, especially after their little episode on the balcony earlier. She was even more surprised to find Nuada waiting for her with some type of white nightgown type garment when they returned to the room.

"Your clothing must be changed, Erulissë," he told her firmly. "Can you manage this yourself, or will you require our assistance?"

Haldir's eyes nearly popped out of his head at Nuada's offer, while Grace immediately scathed a warning look over both men, her flesh tracing with the slightest blue coloring. Assistance? From them? She might still be unsteady, but she would find the strength to change her own clothes, if she had to get out a shovel and dig for it! "In your dreams, Goldilocks," Grace told Nuada sarcastically, plucking the gown from his hand before easing to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyebrows rose at Grace's sarcasm, but he said nothing as he headed for the balcony with Haldir close behind.

Relieved to be alone, Grace set about changing her clothes. She agreed with Nuada – her filthy capris and tank top were beyond disgusting at this point, but wrestling them off was not as easy as it seemed with one arm not working and a huge bandage wrapped around her neck. It took much longer than Grace expected before she was in that gown, and she was utterly drained by the time she finally managed to crawl back against the pillows. "Done," she called out breathlessly.

Appearing through the arched opening, Haldir seemed very pleased to find Grace back in bed with clean clothes on. He came to her side, checked to be sure her bandages were still secure, and after one more careful inspection of everything in that room, he returned to the chair against the far wall and sat down – something that didn't suit Grace at all. She wanted to know more about this strange place she'd suddenly found herself in!

"Where is Nuada? And why are you over there? Why don't you sit here and talk to me?" Grace asked, her voice tired but insistent.

"Nuada has gone to speak with someone, and unlike him, you need rest - not conversation," he told her firmly, immediately regretting it when he saw the hurt look on her face. Grace looked lost in the middle of that huge pile of pillows, and Haldir quickly came to sit on the bed next to her, sympathetic to her strange situation. He spoke to her in the most soothing voice imaginable. "Saes, please forgive me Grace. I will gladly speak with you, but if you do not rest, your wounds will not mend."

Grace looked up at him with a face full of emotion. "How am I possibly supposed to sleep here? I don't know where I am, and I always have bad dreams when I sleep in strange places . . . and that . . . that thing . . ."

Her hand went to her neck and her voice broke as she finished, and Haldir's heart immediately connected with her distress. Sleep never came easy when in unfamiliar surroundings, and certainly not to someone who was also wounded after having suffered such a traumatic experience. How many nights had he spent on patrol, or traveling to other parts of the elven territories, only to spend a sleepless night staring at the stars? And that was when he was in perfect physical condition.

"The place you are in is called Rivendell, and it is quite safe I assure you," he promised, in an extremely comforting tone. "Now please, esteë - rest," he encouraged, tucking the linens a bit tighter around her.

Uncertainty glowed in her eyes as Grace looked up at Haldir, but she could not deny that she was very tired . It had been one hell of a day, and her mind felt numb as she watched him retrieve a chair and put it by the bed.

"Sleep Laurel Grace, saes esteë Grace," Haldir insisted, greatly relieved only moments later to see that Grace was already asleep. He immediately went to stand in the arched doorway for some cool air. Just as Grace had now kicked that cover off in search of relief from the strange heat nagging at her, Haldir was seeking a little relief himself, not understanding the odd warmth that seemed to come over him when he drew close to the human girl.

Frowning, Haldir cast a wary glance over her sleeping form, wondering what strangeness was at work between them, knowing something was most definitely amiss . . . and indeed it was. While it was a well known fact on earth that a human taking blood from a vampire three times would bond the two of them together, there was no precedence for giving a human elf blood. He'd only done what was necessary to save her life, but unbeknownst to Haldir he'd also done a lot more than accidentally stoke the fairy fire burning in Grace's veins. When he filled her to the rim with his immortal blood, he bonded himself to her as securely as if their veins were superglued together . . . and that blood bond was something that would haunt them both for a very long time to come.


	4. Beaches, Bras and Bribes

Chapter 4 – Beaches, Bras and Bribes

Amarande Nuada had lived on earth for nearly eight hundred years, but he involved himself with humans as little as possible . . . at least until now that is . . . and he frowned as he looked over at the peacefully sleeping human on the bed.

An extremely powerful and accomplished business executive responsible for managing several real estate and brokerage firms for Lord Niall, Nuada's life was typically centered in Los Angeles. He owned a penthouse there, and when he wasn't playing office executive, he was in the gym practicing the finer points of martial arts, or he was club hopping in the various supernatural haunts he found so appealing. He hadn't spent any lengthy time in the elven realm in centuries, and he'd been more than surprised when Lord Niall reached out to him to come watch over this human girl. He only answered Niall's request because he had to, and as he settled into the carved wood chair beside Grace's bed, he hoped this wasn't going to turn into anything long term.

That keen and ancient mind had been frantically at work during the night as Nuada realized he himself was the one who located Grace some two years prior for Lord Niall. The fairy lord never mentioned the value of the human he was sent in search of, a fact that irritated Nuada to no end, and considering that, he thought back to the first time he saw Grace some two years prior. The memory disturbed him deeply . . .

 _Cold, calculating emerald eyes flashed against the brilliance of a hot summer's day, carefully considering a young human woman. The girl was casually reclining in a lounge chair, obviously enjoying the pounding of the surf behind her, stretched out like a contented house cat. She turned over, but he was unimpressed by the display of bronzed skin; an ancient mind bored with pleasures of the flesh, making cold assessments . . . thin, unremarkable rear end, small breasts . . . nothing appealing there._

Hours passed, yet his gaze remained intent, unrelenting. Immortal patience focused by centuries of training, conditioned to wait . . . and watch. Clouds began to gather on the horizon, yet not one puff of ethereal interruption showed itself above her, the very sky itself seeming intent to please the little creature now yawning as she shifted position, but that did not mean anything. Tiny ripples of sand edged themselves around the chair, patterns emerging in the shifting grains, but again these could be explained by nothing more than the breeze racing against the approaching evening. Yes, there was one gull too many lingering nearby, perhaps the result of a dropped piece of bread or cracker . . . but then he saw it, exactly the thing he had been waiting for.

Pesky and annoying, the fly had been pestering her for a while now, ignoring her efforts to brush it away, returning again and again to land in just the right place so she could not easily see to swat it. Unrelenting in its pursuit, the insect finally got the better of her, and in that millisecond a life was lost. An insignificant creature reduced to no more than dust by a mere thought. The girl was not even aware of what she had done; the faintest blue tremor scintillating beneath her flesh, virtually imperceptible, unnoticed even by her, yet to the trained eye it was unmistakably there.

Confident his requested task had been fulfilled, a simple mental message was conveyed . . . "I have found her". What was done with that knowledge was of no concern. Nuada had no idea why he'd been asked to perform such a trivial thing as locating an inconsequential human. Yet a task had been assigned, so a task had now been completed.

Intending to leave, the mercenary found himself stunned when the girl suddenly lifted her head, instantly capturing him with a haunted grey-eyed stare. Not once during all these hours had Nuada seen her face – and he did not see it now - his mind incapable of comprehending anything outside of that soul-searching gaze. It was impossible for that human to know he was there, his concealment perfect, his identity reduced to nothing more than a shadow, yet somehow she sensed his presence . . . that girl knew he was watching her.

Confused, he had quickly faded away, melting into the very darkness beneath the weathered wooden walkway where he sought refuge that day, positive he would never see her again.

Now sitting in a bedchamber of Imladris, Nuada once again found himself silently watching Grace sleep for hours on end. Against all odds, he was most assuredly seeing "that girl" again, and he debated just what he'd gotten himself into. Grace seemed to be an unusual little creature, and he took full advantage of her pleasant respite to allow himself the luxury of a most intensive physical inspection. She wasn't very big, even by human standards, but her size certainly had not stopped her from throwing Haldir of Lórien around – a fact that in combination with who her great-grandfather was, had captured his undivided attention.

With calculating precision, his curious gaze repeatedly wandered over every inch of visible bronzed flesh, and Nuada found himself perplexed by the fact that someone would intentionally bake themselves in the sun until they turned that color. The dark purple bruises covering her badly swollen face disturbed him, and it took nearly an hour before Nuada noticed the liberal sprinkling of freckles visible underneath. Her ears were pierced twice each but checking her hands, he saw no rings to indicate she was betrothed, and he even gave the glittery silver specks on her short fingernails his unrelenting scrutiny.

The scars on her skin intrigued him, and Nuada was studying them intently when Grace finally woke. He could tell from her expression she was surprised to see him seated beside her, and he hoped his presence did not frighten her. His voice was intentionally soothing when he spoke to her. "Hello Erulissë," he said in a very gentle tone. "Saes, please do not be startled. There is nothing to fear."

Large grey eyes still heavy with sleep searched his face, as Grace gave Nuada a puzzled look. She was indeed surprised to have an intimidating blond warrior staring at her when she woke up – although it was an improvement over the previous evenings set of two intimidating warriors – although she found that her fear of them was beginning to morph into curiosity. They seemed very willing to talk to her, and she had a thousand questions – the first of which she intended to ask right now.

"Why do you call me Erulissë, instead of Grace? What does that mean?" she asked with a voice still husky from sleep.

"Erulissë is simply the elf translation of your human name Grace," he explained with a pleasant look. "Erulissë . . . I find that I prefer it, so that is what I shall call you."

Grace looked at Nuada strangely as she continued to wake up. She found his explanation rather interesting, and she found herself surprised that it didn't piss her off. Under normal circumstances, someone simply assigning her a new nickname – no matter what the language translation - would have offended her to no end, and probably got them a good ass chewing lecture for good measure. Yet, for some peculiar reason, Grace didn't object to Nuada's little pet name. It sounded rather exotic the way he rolled it out in that strange accent. She kinda liked it.

Pretty new nicknames aside, now that Grace was fully awake, she found herself feeling like a discarded toy sprawled out in that bed. Determined to get up, she tried her same approach from earlier, but her body had stiffened as she slept and her efforts brought little motion, only a startled gasp of pain.

Nuada came to her aid instantly, but he wisely hesitated before touching her. He did not wish to offend her in the same manner Haldir had. "Avo drasto ge . . . saes, allow me to help you," he offered politely.

Thankful for the assistance, and positive he meant no harm, Grace graciously accepted and with a confident but surprisingly gentle touch, Nuada helped her shift position. It took a few moments, and only after he was completely satisfied that she was comfortable, did Nuada return to the chair. He was still looking over her with unhidden interest, and returning his curiosity, Grace just stared right back.

Elaborately detailed black clothing covered nearly every inch of his body, but it could not hide the fact that Nuada was an intensely attractive man, although in an entirely different way than Haldir. While Haldir looked thirty at best, Nuada looked older – mid-forties in human years probably – but it suited him to perfection. His strikingly handsome face sported an appealingly masculine mouth, straight nose and high cheekbones all covered with flawless porcelain skin and topped with yet another head of breathtakingly beautiful long hair . . . but without a doubt, his most striking feature was those smoldering eyes. Framed with very thick long blond lashes, they simply glowed with the most amazing deep green color. Reminding Grace very much of the expensive emerald jewels she had seen in magazines or the jewelry store, it seemed as if they possessed an almost hypnotic quality. A subtle fire burned in their depths, and the intensity of his focused stare was palpable.

Taking that stare into consideration - along with the fact that he just helped her sit up in bed - Grace couldn't help but note how disconcerting it was that strange good-looking men kept touching and looking at her, particularly when she was not properly dressed and there was a bed involved. And speaking of bed, she was also noting that the good looking man who put her in it before she fell asleep was conspicuously absent now. "Where is Haldir?" Grace asked, surprised by the slight frown that touched Nuada's face when she asked.

"He had things to attend to," Nuada answered flatly. "Elves may not require the same amount of rest that a human does, but Haldir has been tending to you for a very long time now. Even immortals require sleep at times."

The answer made Grace feel guilty. She had lost track of time since coming to this place, and it had not occurred to her that while she slept, Haldir had been watching over her. She also felt guilt that Nuada seemed somewhat unimpressed by her question, and Grace wondered if she had offended him, making him think that perhaps she didn't like him being there. Her frown soon matched his . . . seemed Grace was doing well in the "offend the elf" category if nothing else since coming here.

"Are you tired too?" Grace asked sincerely. "Am I keeping you away from something you need to be doing? I promise I won't get up again if there's somewhere else you need to be."

Those green eyes narrowed and that frown deepened as Nuada looked at her strangely. In his experience humans were notoriously self-absorbed, conceited and somewhat putrid creatures with no consideration or compassion for their environment or other species whatsoever. Yet, this little human girl wanted to know if he was tired because he had been sitting with her for a few hours. Well, that was certainly a first . . . and Nuada found himself carefully considering her expression and tone to see if Grace was taunting him. She obviously wasn't.

"No Erulissë, I am quite well. Thank you," Nuada answered, making careful observation of her expression when she heard his reply. Her relief was obvious, it was genuine, and it magnified his intrigue a thousandfold. A sarcastic, foul mouthed, cross-bred nettie descended from a sylph that was genuinely concerned about others? Oh, he'd definitely be sticking around for a while yet . . . this human was more interesting than a carnivorous plant garden with a fresh flock of flies.

"Well if you get tired, you let me know," Grace told him with a motherly expression, and Nuada found himself on the verge of chuckling out loud. There had been countless occasions when he had gone three or four days without closing his eyes, much less sleeping.

"You will be the first to know," he answered with a sly grin, once again enjoying her obvious relief at his response. He soon noted that Grace obviously wanted to ask him something, but seemed unsure . . . so he prompted her. "Erulissë, is there something you need?" he asked. Nuada could have easily taken the thought from her mind, but it was important that she trust him enough to speak with him. They needed to be able to effectively communicate with one another.

"Well I think it's interesting to know that eves sleep the same way humans do," Grace answered a bit shyly, "do umm . . . do ya'll eat and drink the same way we do too?" Her stomach was growling, and she'd not been offered so much as a glass of water during her entire time here.

Nuada felt his jaw clench as he stared at her in disbelief. He had been stunned when Grace asked Haldir about the bathroom the night before, and now looking around he quickly realized there was no trace of food in that room. No wonder the girl was uncomfortable! Even her most basic needs were not being tended to, and Nuada made a mental note to talk to that marchwarden. Haldir might be a good healer and an outstanding general, but after a little too much time in the forest, he was obviously lacking in his social skills. "Am I to surmise that your rude healer has not fed you?" he asked abruptly.

"No," Grace answered somewhat nervously, "and I wouldn't mind something to drink if that's alright."

Grace seemed honestly embarrassed to have to ask for something to drink, and Nuada was appalled. He was on his feet instantly. "Elves love to eat, Erulissë . . . and there is a great variety of food here. Díheno i lû. Give me a moment, and I shall get something for you," he told her politely, already disappearing down the corridor.

While she waited, Grace looked around the room again. It was bright out, so she knew the night had passed. She also noticed that her dirty clothing was gone from the bedside table where she'd rolled it up and put it last night, and the flowers had been changed. They were now bright yellow. Deciding she would rather be up, she gingerly eased herself from the bed. The dizziness was just as bad, but Grace was prepared for it and held onto the table until it passed. When she was steady on her feet she slowly worked her way out on the balcony and over to the handrail for support.

The place was so beautiful it took her breath away, and she stood against the balcony railing enjoying the heady fragrance floating off the flowering shrubs that surrounded it. The dark clouds and rain from the night before had eased, and now sunlight shown softly and a gentle breeze moved the warm air. It was a quiet afternoon and only the gentle sounds of insects floated through the stillness. Closing her eyes, Grace counted back – by her best guess she'd been here somewhere around 30-36 hours – and there were so many unanswered questions! She still had no idea where she was, although she certainly could not complain about her company or her care, and she was debating that when she heard someone approaching.

Turning around, she expected to see Nuada, but Grace was surprised to see two new people standing in the doorway instead. She thought Haldir and Nuada presented a unique and imposing duo, but the pair of men now filling that archway were only one hair short of terrifying, and Grace shuddered to think what was going to happen to her now. Her eyes widened as she nervously looked them over, but they met her obvious fright with gentle smiles and soft looks, patiently waiting for Grace to satisfy her curiosity and settle before speaking.

Draped in deep scarlet colored robes with what appeared to be an ornate metal crown around his head, the first man was of the same impressive stature as the other elves, with pleasantly tanned skin and long raven black hair worn in a similar style to Haldir. The long length hung freely down his back while the sides were secured with elaborate braids. His ears were obviously pointed, and while he appeared to be much older than either Nuada or Haldir, there was a softness to his maturity, and a deep compassion seemed to resonate from him, instantly soothing Grace. His eyes were the exact same odd grey hue as hers were, and Grace found them to be strangely familiar as she met his gentle gaze.

The other man was unlike any creature Grace had ever seen before. Slightly shorter than his companion, he was utterly beautiful, his regal stature emanating power and demanding respect. Long, fine hair was so brilliantly golden it looked like the sunshine on a bright summer's day, and his eyes glowed the most unusual sea green Grace had ever seen. He was obviously older, but his fine wrinkles did not detract from his beauty in any way, only causing his alabaster skin to look like very finely aged silk. Unconcealed pointed ears revealed him to also be a non-human, but while the one man was dressed in elaborate robes, he was dressed in the most exquisitely tailored dark colored suit Grace had ever seen. Finely fitted clothing aside, Grace thought he looked very much like what an angel was supposed to, and she immediately knew he was somehow different than the other one.

"Good afternoon, Grace. How are you feeling?" the blond one asked in a beautiful, melodic voice and Grace found herself immediately entranced by his presence.

"I'm alright," Grace answered nervously, twisting her hands together. They were both staring at her, and she felt like an experiment under a microscope. It was not a good feeling.

"Do not be afraid, we mean no harm," he told her. "Come child . . . speak with us." His voice was gentle but commanding, and it gave Grace the same hidden vibe she got from Nuada - this man did not tolerate being disobeyed. She fought to remain calm and did not resist when he stepped closer and carefully took her arm, guiding her back into the room. With a small amount of difficulty, Grace settled herself back on the bed, watching as the elderly blond man gracefully lowered himself into the chair by the headboard . . . his motions were so fluid, it was as if he flowed rather than actually moved. A quick glance showed that another chair had appeared from nowhere, and the man in crimson seated himself in it, the two men now sitting side by side to the left of that bed, still watching her intently. It was about to put Grace into a panic attack.

Silently praying for Nuada or Haldir to show up and save her ass, Grace fought to calm her wildly beating heart, and instinctively placing her trembling hand over it as she always did when she was upset or particularly nervous. The crown on that one elf's head clearly indicated she was before some form of non-human royalty, and Grace had absolutely no idea what behavior from her would be deemed acceptable. She'd already managed to offend both Haldir and Nuada, and she certainly didn't want to add these two to the "offended elf" list she was compiling! Positive staring was not a step in the right direction, she frowned and focused her eyes on the bed, shifting them only to cast the occasion glance toward the doorway Nuada recently disappeared through – wondering where the hell was he with those "no one will harm you" promises when she really needed them!

Fear was rolling off Grace in waves, and the two lords exchanged concerned looks. As powerful telepaths, they could both hear and feel her panicked thoughts and emotions and her distress in turn was distressing them. They wanted only to meet her and introduce themselves – they did not wish to frighten Grace any more than she had been already.

Taking the initiative, Elrond spoke first, using both his voice and mind to send soothing sentiments her way. "Ni meren gen govaded . . . It is my pleasure to meet you, Grace," the crowned elf told her gently. "I am Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. Sen mar nîn . . . this is my home Imladris. Welcome."

He placed his hand over his heart and nodded his head to her respectfully in the typical formal elf greeting and Grace thought she'd faint. A man – a Lord - with a crown on his head was talking to her and bowing his head, and she didn't even have a bra on! That little fact hadn't occurred to Grace when she woke up and Nuada was sitting there because she'd been buried in a pile of covers and pillows, but it certainly occurred to her now. She was sitting up in bed, bare-chested in front of royalty dressed only in a thin little white nightgown! Quickly crossing her arms across her chest, Grace found herself so flushed with embarrassment and feeling so self-conscious, she wanted to crawl under that bed and hide.

Elrond found her response to his greeting quite unexpected. He traveled to the earth realm frequently, but his human interactions were very limited, and he watched Grace closely, wondering if she honestly intended to get under the bed . . . and what a bra was. As he considered that, he began to understand why his brother desired to interact with these young mortal women. Grace's thoughts and actions seemed quite interesting and perhaps even a bit entertaining!

About that time Nuada returned, and the mercenary couldn't help chuckling at the thoughts floating around that room - Elrond's lack of familiarity with the intricate nature of female undergarments was nothing short of hysterical! Thankfully, he was familiar and he identified with Grace's discomfort, silently conveying a mental request for the two lords to give him a moment to settle her. They readily agreed, patiently waiting while he placed a food tray on the far table, then retrieved a small throw from the armoire. Nuada offered Grace a comforting smile as he came to her side, and obvious relief washed over her face when he gently wrapped the small blanket around her. It left little doubt who the human expert among them was, and only after Nuada had seated himself on the bed by her side did Elrond speak again.

"I know you have many questions, Pinilyaer and we shall try to answer them for you now," Elrond told her kindly. His expression was soft as he looked at her, and Grace felt a sense of relief - she would love to have an explanation for even part of what had happened to her – and she also felt relieved that Nuada was there. Just how relieved became crystal clear over the next few moments as they watched her ever so subtly scoot herself closer and closer to that mercenary, and by the time she was pressed against his side, all three of the men had to suppress chuckles.

"Are you more comfortable now?" Elrond asked seriously, knowing already from her thoughts that she was. He was pleased when she answered honestly with a positive nod. He wanted her to feel secure for this conversation. "Very good," he replied, "then please tell me . . . how you are feeling? Is Haldir tending to you well?"

The question seemed simple enough, but Grace internally cringed at the mention of Haldir's name, positive that elf lord was unhappy that she threw one of his subjects across the balcony then threatened to kill him. Not Good! Pulling that throw up to her neck, Grace began wondering if the prisons or dungeons here were as nice as the rest of the place, all while squeezing so close to Nuada she was on the verge of crawling in his lap.

He could actually feel her tremble as she pressed against him, and he placed a comforting arm around her for support. "Erulissë, do not dare to think such things!" Nuada scolded softly. "Elrond is not upset with you, nor is Haldir. Saes, please speak to him."

Grace looked over Elrond very carefully – he didn't look angry. "Haldir has been very nice," she finally answered, "and my neck still hurts a lot, but the stuff he put on it last night made it feel a lot better."

Elrond smiled brightly at that information, glad to know his elven potion worked well on a human, and Lord Niall was quite pleased too. "Well, that is very good news," he exclaimed with obvious relief. Grace turned toward him with a questioning look on her face, and Niall realized he had not introduced himself. "Oh dear, where are my manners?" he said in that odd soft, sweet voice. "I am Niall Brigant, Lord of the Fairies and ruler of the Fey Realm of Nárthea.

Grace tried not to look too surprised at that comment, but she failed miserably, positive if she had not been sitting down she most likely would have collapsed. Her hand quickly clamped over her mouth as her mind once again filled with ridiculous images of completely inappropriate things at the revelation of yet another supernatural species. Haldir's elf comment drew wild thoughts of Santa Claus, but _fairies_? Now it was Tinkerbell and her pixie friends, wings and wands and glittery little costumes of puff and fluff . . . obviously, none of which remotely resembled the powerfully masculine creature sitting in that chair. Thankfully, Grace maintained her outward composure this time, but Nuada found himself deviously considering how Lord Niall would look in a sparkly green tutu, and as Niall passed him a warning look, Elrond snickered. This human girl really was entertaining.

Determined to remain focusing, Elrond tucked those thought away for further exploration at a later time, and refocused on Grace. "Do you remember any of what has happened to you, Grace?" he asked.

Frowning, she considered his question for a moment. Grace remembered bits and pieces, but there were big gaps she could not fill in. "Some," she answered honestly, "but not all. I know I was attacked in the parking lot of Fangtasia by a vampire . . ." She paused for a moment, reliving the horror of it, then suddenly she locked them down with a burning stare and exploded. "Ya'll were both there!" she exclaimed loudly. "What did ya'll do . . . kidnap me? Where the hell am I? Why did ya'll bring me here? Why do you care what happens to me?"

As Grace questioned them, her voice got louder and more agitated, and when she tossed that throw off her and started to ever so softly trace with the faintest blue shimmers, the men were all shocked. Grace had gone from terrified human to pissed off fey in a matter of seconds. It was not a good sign, and Nuada immediately tightened that arm around her and clamped a hand over her mouth to reign her in. Lord Niall asked him to come to Rivendell and handle the human girl, and that was exactly what Nuada intended to do. "Erulissë, stop it!" he commanded, not the least bit surprised when he felt her mind start tugging at him. He was expecting it, and easily deflected her anger, holding her right there until she calmed down again.

Lord Elrond looked at Grace gently. She had every right to be frightened and angry, and he found himself suddenly a little more gracious for Lord Niall's choice of Nuada as a guardian for her. The mercenary handled her extremely well. "You were indeed attacked by a vampire, Grace - but we did not kidnap you," he told her calmly. "You were brought to this place because you were injured, so we could heal you. As I told you before, you are in a place called Imladris, which is my home. I know it will sound quite unbelievable, but you are no longer in your world. You are now in the elf realm . . . and this particular area is known as Rivendell."

Grace closed her eyes as she struggled to comprehend his words, furious at her lack of control over her situation. She didn't know what a "realm" was, but she certainly wanted to know how the hell you got out of one. Her mind boiled with a toxic mixture of confusion and questions, and all three men frowned, wondering how to help her understand.

Suddenly, Lord Niall rose from his chair, coming to sit beside her. Before Grace could begin to protest, he captured her hands in his, and as she met his piercing gaze, Niall took control of her mind. Well aware that forcible mind control could be quite painful if the intruder desired it, Niall ever so gently took his memories of her attack and shared them with her, showing Grace exactly what happened, allowing her to see the events as they unfolded through his eyes. She could hear every word, see herself laying on the ground, actually hear the metal as Elrond shoved it through the vampire's chest. It was both frightening and powerful, and completely unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.

She was shaking like a leaf by the time he withdrew, but she was also perfectly aware of who he was . . . who he really was . . . or at least who he claimed to be. "Hello Grace," he told her softly with a pleasant smile. "My name is Niall Brigant, and I am your great-grandfather."

Leaning back against Nuada hard enough to nearly shove him off that bed, Grace stared at the man in the suit beside her like he had completely lost his mind. Great-grandfather her ass! She might be adopted, but she didn't have pointed ears, and she most certainly was not a fucking fairy! Looking around that room at the pale furniture and white walls, she was once again wondering if she'd died and this was some sick and twisted dream, or if she'd snapped and been locked in the lunatic asylum because obviously either she was nuts, or they were – one of the two.

"Grace, you are most certainly not dead or delusional," he told her firmly, that melodic voice forcing her to listen even if she didn't want to. "I am indeed your great-grandfather, and unlike your cartoon characters, I am a real fairy. Now, if you would please allow me, I will tell you of my people."

Grace gave him her best science project stare, but it was three on one and she didn't stand a chance. Elrond was watching her intently, she had Niall in her face, and Nuada had quite smoothly taken hold of her muddled mortal mind the very instant Niall released it. Grace had no idea, but she was now being faced down by nearly seventeen millennia of immortal experience in addition to being manipulated by one of the most powerful supernatural minds available. She was going to listen and accept what that fairy lord was telling her, like it or not.

"My son Dermot traveled to the earth realm many years ago," Niall began to explain. "Fairies and humans don't cross-breed often, but we enjoy interacting with other species, and he found solace with your kind. His union produced the beautiful child that was your true father and as you sit before me in this very room, you are my great-grandchild. I beg you search your heart and see that my words are true."

Grace frowned desperately, staring at the strange supernatural creature in front of her, wondering what he wanted from her and just how he intended to get it. She was as confused as she ever had been, and if not for Nuada, she probably would have dissolved into an emotional puddle . . . as it was, however, Grace was calm as a mountain stream. That mercenary was sending silent soothing sentiments easing through her mind like a gentle mist, subliminally stroking her emotions, settling her nerves and keeping her calm and concentrated. Grace leaned against him, as she listened to Niall explain.

"There are many different types of fairies, or fey as you may call us, and every type possesses their own unique magical gifts. Great power is woven into the very fiber of our beings, and even the most simple of my kind is capable of useful feats, whether it be a knowledge of spells or water, the ability to heal or protect, or even to manipulate another mind or object. On the whole, we are a beautiful and kind collection of creatures, captivating to humans and irresistible to vampires . . . but while the vast majority of us delight in simple tricks and mischief, there are some among us who are very nasty indeed. We live very long lives and we are always curious to learn about new things. The primary home of the fey is a place called Tír na nÓg, and the creature who live there possess the power to travel from that home to other places . . . like this elf realm where we now are, or even to your world," he told her proudly.

Grace looked at him oddly. Even with Nuada's help, her mind was still on overload as she tried to digest the memories of her attack he just shoved at her, in addition to everything he was now telling her. On top of that migraine she already had, it was a bit much. "Well if you're a fairy, and I'm supposed to be related to you, then why am I here with a bunch of elves?" Grace asked incredulously, knowing that was the most ridiculous question that had passed her lips during her entire lifetime. Silently she was back to considering cartoons, contemplating the differences between the pointy eared creatures in the Disney cartoons and those at the North Pole . . . there weren't that many.

Once again, her vivid imagination delighted the three men, all of them smiling in response to her entertaining thoughts. Elrond answered her question. "Saes, please do not doubt my brother's concern for your wellbeing, Grace. Niall would gladly do anything for you, but fairy magic tends to manifest itself through brilliant light . . . just as you have experienced yourself. His home, Tír na nÓg, is the epicenter of that magical light, a place so brilliant and powerful that it would reduce a mortal such as yourself to dust. It simply was not possible for him to take you to his world and care for you, so I chose to bring you to my world instead. I am honored to have you as a guest in my home, and to offer you the care of my people in his stead." He paused and watched her face for a reaction, seeing her frown even more intensely at his words.

"He's a fairy and you're an elf, but ya'll are brothers?" Grace asked, genuinely confused.

"We are half-brothers who shared the same father," Elrond explained. "Niall is full fairy, while I am half elf and half fairy . . . our kinds are similar and related, but our ways are quite different. My world - the elf realm - is not entirely unlike your human world, and like the fairies, we have the power to leave this place and travel to the other realms. Some of us choose to never leave this place, while others choose to travel to your world often, but we always remain hidden and keep to ourselves. Very few humans know of our existence, and even fewer have set foot within these walls. Like the fairies, we are also a beautiful and kind people who live extremely long lives . . . I myself am a little over six thousand years old in the human measurement of time."

Those words brought all activity within Grace's mind to a complete halt. It was an inconceivable number he'd just peeled off, and Grace found herself staring at him in complete shock. These weren't just strange supernatural creatures . . . they were _immortals_ . . . like the made up things on the Sci-Fi channel. Even the vampires she'd read about didn't begin to claim ages anywhere near that level . . . the oldest one she'd heard about on the internet was only around fifteen hundred years old. That was a baby by elf standards, and her thirty-five year long lifetime wouldn't even equate to a day in these creatures lives. She was stunned, and when Elrond opened his mouth to continue talking, Grace gave him the hand . . . the palm . . . the southern shut the fuck up signal. She needed everyone to just please be quite for a minute while her poor brain tried to catch up.

Closing her eyes, Grace kept thinking surely she was going to open them again and find that this was not real . . . she was gonna be laying in her lounge chair on the beach and she'd simply gotten too hot and this was all just a very bad dream. Unfortunately, when she opened her eyes, she just saw the exact same thing. Two immortal men – one fairy and one elf – staring back at her. She looked at their hair, at their ears, at that crown on Elrond's head . . . it only made sense if vampires were real, other supernatural creatures probably were too . . . by my god, they were older than dirt, and they were telling her there were different worlds. Suddenly Grace felt like she was starring in an episode of Star Trek, and she found herself suddenly not wanting anything else explained to her – ever.

Turning to Nuada, she looked up at him with a pure doe-eyed stare. She did not know why, but she needed to hear something from him as to all this strange information being thrown at her. He had offered to protect her, and for some inexplicable reason, she trusted him to do that very thing. His emerald eyes were gentle when they met her gaze, and he did not shift when Grace reached up and eased his hair back over his shoulder, running a curious finger over the tip of his pointed ear. She looked over his face as thoroughly as he had ever been looked over, and her voice wavered when she spoke. "Are you that old too?" she asked in little more than a whisper.

"As old as dirt?" he countered with a soft expression and a slight smile. "Not quite," he answered with a wink, "and you do not have to hear more of these things right now if you do not wish to. When you are ready, simply let me know and I will gladly explain anything you wish to know. Is that acceptable, Erulissë?"

Grace was trembling as she nodded. She'd much rather take the rest of this information in smaller quantities at her own pace. It would be much easier to digest. As for what she'd been fed so far, the best part she could manage to find was that the elves and fairies seemed much more pleasant than the vampires did, and pointed ears were certainly a lot better than fangs!

When she looked back to the two lords, she found Niall looking quite strained. Grace was obviously quite uncomfortable with this mountain of information being thrust her way, and he would certainly not press her – Nuada was perfectly capable of answering her questions later – but he wanted to know that Grace at least partially accept his revelation to her. "Grace, do you believe what I have told you, child?" he asked, his beautiful face clouded with concern as he looked over her. "Do you acknowledge that I am your great-grandfather?"

Grace looked at Niall uncertainly, but somewhere in the back of her mind something clicked, his words falling into place as if they fit into a puzzle. Yes, she did believe him, but that didn't necessarily make her happy about it. "Is that how you knew what was happening to me?" she asked, twisting that throw in her fingers . . . around and around and around . . . just like her mind felt.

"I will not lie to you, Grace. I have been watching you quite some time," he revealed, positive she would be angered by the idea. "You share my bloodline, therefore I have the ability to sense when you are in danger . . . I came to know about you when you were in that terrible accident, and I am very sorry for pain you have endured . . . and for the loss of your human father. I would very much like to learn about you, to share in your life if you would allow me the privilege of a relationship with you . . . I would be most pleased to help you in any way possible." His words seemed genuine, but as his eyes instinctively wandered to the scars that traced her hairline and beyond, Grace could feel herself bristling. The last thing she wanted from any creature – immortal elf, fairy or otherwise – was their freaking sympathy.

Her eyes narrowed and her face fell as Grace found herself wondering if a powerful fairy lord had been watching over her and wanted to help her so badly, just how he managed to screw up and let that vampire get hold of her . . . Better yet, if he was so damn helpful, why didn't he keep that SUV from flattening her in the first place?

The three men all frowned at her terrible thoughts. That accident was how Niall became aware of her existence - his mind hearing her when she cried out, her thoughts connecting with his thoughts – it had been a very unusual blessing in disguise, but that was quite obviously not a topic she would readily take in, particularly not at this moment in time. Niall passed a pointed look to Nuada. He was trusting the guardian to smooth over that subject with Grace if it happened to be one of the topics that came up during their promised future discussions. Nuada silently assured Niall, he would.

"Grace, please listen to me, child," Niall said softly, reaching to take her hand again. "I apologize if you think I have failed you in some way, and I know you are very confused by everything we have told you, but know that as one of only two living descendants on earth from my line, I never intend any further harm to come your way. I am a very powerful man, and now that I have found you, do not doubt that I shall provide for you and protect you at all costs."

Looking into Niall's face, feeling his hand on hers, Grace found herself believing that his promises were genuine . . . and wondering how he intended to keep them. He squeezed her hand and smiled. "You trust Nuada?" he asked, knowing she did. "You believe his promise that he will keep you safe?" Grace glanced up at the muscular masterpiece she was still huddled against and nodded. Yep – sure did! "Very good," Niall told her with a smile. "Then you will be pleased to know that he is here because I asked him to come. I have asked Nuada to watch over you – to be your guardian, both here and when you return home. While I will always be watching over you, I cannot always come to your side so quickly, but Nuada can . . . he will be sure that you are never harmed again. Does that make you feel better?"

Grace looked up at Nuada again. Yep – sure did! Turning back to Niall, the pain in her neck caught her and Grace suddenly remembered what Nuada would be protecting her against, and she wondered something very important. They read the question from her mind before she could even ask it.

"I am sure you have a great fear for them after your experience last evening, but rest assured there are no vampires in the elf realm, nor will there ever be," Elrond told her firmly, and Grace liked that answer very much.

"And do not fear that another will harm you when you return home," Nuada added sincerely. "On my life, no vampire will ever taste your flesh again."

Suddenly her face creased into a frown, as she heard Nuada referring to her returning home. "Am I going back home, or am I trapped here? Are ya'll going to take me back?"

The three all looked at her kindly, and Niall answered. "Certainly, Grace! Once you are healed, you will return to your world and your human life. I have even taken care of your beloved truck, and it shall be waiting for you!" At the mention of her truck, Grace really was shocked. Her vehicle was the absolute last thing on her mind – which was surprising considering how obsessed she was with the thing – she had completely forgotten it even existed! She found her mind beginning to race again with concerned thoughts about her things . . . the hotel, her purse and keys, her clothes . . . but Nuada smoothly interrupted, silently squashing them with his own mind. Grace need not worry for any of that right now. Everything was taken care of, and her only concern was to heal.

Lord Elrond agreed. Coming to his feet, he passed a final compassionate look over Grace, the ancient eyes of a healer carefully assessing the bruises on her face and the bandages on her neck. She did not look well, but she did seem slightly better than before. "Worry for nothing," he told her firmly. "You are safe here at Imladris, and you need do nothing beyond rest and heal. There is much yet to see and learn in this place but you have time. There is no hurry."

Niall had risen also, and as Elrond was talking, he was observing her with kind and fatherly expression. "Rest well my child. My brother and his people shall see to your needs, and I shall return soon," he told her, leaning to place a delicate kiss on her forehead. He passed her a soft smile, then the two brothers left together, leaving her with Nuada.

She was still more than a little overwhelmed with everything that she'd learned over the past hour or so, and he continued to sit with her for a little longer, making sure she remained calm. "Are you alright, Erulissë?" he asked.

She nodded, and while he knew that was not entirely true, it was very important that he attend to his original task . . . feeding her. Nuada came to his feet, retrieving the tray from the far side of the room and bringing it to her. He sat it on the bed, then eased into one of the chairs. "Eat, Erulissë, saes," he told her in a firm tone.

Grace took the cup of water and drank it as she stared at the food on that plate. It was not entirely unlike the food she was used to, but in the same instant it was completely different. She had no idea what animal that roasted meat came from, but she sincerely doubted there was a farm around here with cows and pigs. The vegetables were also unfamiliar, although there appeared to be some type of beans along with an unusual color of root vegetable. Her face wrinkled. She was not sure if she wanted to eat that or not, no matter how much her stomach was growling.

Watching her reaction, Nuada laughed softly. "I know. It is not McDonald's, but it what they eat here."

Grace looked at him in surprise, wondering how the hell he knew about McDonald's, and Nuada laughed at her. "If you eat, I will answer your questions," he told her, knowing that bribing usually worked with humans . . . and it did this time as well. Poking the potato with her fork, she cut off a tiny speck and tasted it, finding that it tasted good. She took a bite, looking at him expectantly as she chewed. Settled back into the chair, Nuada kept his end of the agreement, beginning to talk and watching in amusement as Grace nearly choked on a bean when he casually revealed that he had been residing on earth for nearly eight hundred years.

Reaching for that water again, Grace now gave Nuada the hand. If that was what he intended to tell her, she would never manage to eat that food. "Current things only," she ordered, listening with relief as he shifted his conversation to boring matters of real estate and property acquisitions. That was news she could eat to, and she did, although she only managed a little before she began to feel a bit strange in her stomach. Deciding to stop while she was ahead, she pushed the tray away. "That's enough," she told him firmly.

Nuada leaned over from the chair and frowned as he checked the plate. "You have barely eaten, Erulissë! How shall you heal if you do not eat? You are too thin, and that tiny bit of food was not enough for a bird. You must eat more."

Grace looked at her new guardian. She didn't want to disappoint Nuada - although she was fairly positive he was not the type who got disappointed very often – but she felt quite certain if she ate any more she was going to be violently ill. "I will try again a little later, ok?" she told him, seeing his frown deepen as she shoved the tray away.

He didn't press any further, moving the tray away, the returning to the bed and helping her settle before resuming his spot in the chair. She was staring at him, and it was somewhat unnerving. Watching over people was something he had done for countless centuries . . . but being watched in return was never part of it. His mind automatically returned to thoughts of the beach and the first time those burning grey eyes locked on him. He still felt like Grace was looking into his very soul "Do you wish me to explain something to you, Erulissë?" he asked politely.

"Tell me what a realm is," she answered, sinking her head farther into the pillows.

For the next hour, Grace lay there listening with rapt curiosity to a gorgeous man with a strangely accented voice explain how there were eight different realms containing different species of creatures. There were two realms that served as neutral territories, earth being one of them. Creatures from other realms could travel there and interact, but as a general rule, travel among the realms was limited. Many creatures did not interact at all, and many did not care for one another.

Limiting the information he offered and refusing to alarm her with any specifics, Nuada shifted his focus, asking Grace wouldn't she rather hear about the elf realm since that was where they were. She agreed, and he amazed her with breathtaking accounts of beautiful mountains and striking waterfalls, golden forests and velvety grass, magical secret springs and even perfectly manicured gardens. The life like descriptions rendered in his lilting voice soothed her, and soon her eyes grew heavy, showing Nuada that she was tired. He patted her gently on the arm then quietly excused himself, taking up a spot on the balcony and leaving her to drift off to sleep.

Staring at the now empty chair, Grace found herself groggily wondering where Haldir was, and why he had not returned, but her tired mind couldn't focus and her eyes closed. Her body desperately wanted to rest, but as she turned restlessly in the bed, she could find no comfortable place. Her neck was killing her, and as she drifted into disturbing foggy dreams, Grace found the memories Niall had shared with her rearing their ugly little heads. The sick, slurping sounds that vampire made when he was feeding on her began to echo through her ears as she envisioned herself laying there limp on the ground, and Grace jerked awake with a startled gasp, drawing Nuada in from the balcony as she struggled to calm herself.

Wondering if she'd ever be able to sleep again, Grace started to get up, but Nuada stopped her. Taking a seat by her side, he offered a compassionate look as he began to gently trace his fingers along her cheek. "Oltho vae, Erulissë," he said softly, continuing to murmur something in a strange language under his breath. Grace didn't know what he was doing, but she could feel her mind and body going limp, her eyes closing of their own accord, and by the time he leaned over and placed the softest of kisses on her forehead she was long gone. Nuada had placed Grace under a sleep spell, assuring that the little human girl now placed under his care would get the rest she needed without being disturbed by any haunting dreams.

Nuada stayed with her a while longer, thoroughly checking her thoughts to ensure Grace was indeed at peace, before returning to the balcony. He was expecting a long, quiet night and found himself genuinely surprised when less than an hour later, he was silently summoned by Lord Niall. It seemed his services as a mercenary and guardian were needed in a somewhat different capacity tonight.


	5. A Temperate Tribunal

Chapter 5 – A Temperate Tribunal

Punishment. Every species or race has its own preferred method of determining it, and for a vampire it came in the form of a tribunal - a vampire tribunal - and in a dilapidated warehouse on the outskirts of Shreveport, one was being held this very night, and Grace was the cause.

Lord Niall had been deadly serious when he climbed in Eric Northman's face behind Fangtasia and impressed upon him the seriousness of a vampire attacking a human descended from his bloodline, and when he told Eric he would be getting back to him later, it was not an empty threat – it was a promise. Thankfully, everyone now felt confident Grace was going to survive her attack, but Niall Brigant was just as determined the vampire ultimately responsible would not . . . and Nuada was going to guarantee that.

Amarande Nuada might be an accomplished office executive in the human world, but that was just something to occupy his free time. His true occupation was something else entirely. Lord Niall commanded an elite group of fairy "guardians", a hand picked troop of highly trained mercenaries used to guard, protect and kill when necessary to ensure the safety of both the fairy lord and the fairy realm – or any other creature Niall deemed necessary. Nuada was not a fairy guardian, but he was the intimidating creature Niall paid to recruit and train his elite guardian team, and he was also the creature Niall trusted above all others when he had something of the utmost importance to be taken care of . . . such as ensuring Grace's safety . . . or killing the vampire responsible for harming her.

Nuada's prowess as a killer was well known, and as Haldir of Lórien had previously noted, the man was a living legend. He had not only earned the title of being the most accomplished guardian in any realm, he was also recognized as one of the best handlers of a blade in existence . . . and he did not hesitate to use that impressive experience either. While his association with Niall and the fairies was well known and recognized, his services could always be had for a price, and as one of the most bloodthirsty and cold-blooded mercenaries in any realm, they often were. Nuada had been a mercenary for millennia, and while he was fairly positive he'd explored every way to torture and kill another creature, he was always ready and willing to try and find a new one.

The imposing mercenary had just exited Grace's bedchamber after placing her under a sleep spell, when he was silently summoned. Lord Niall was beckoning him to join himself and Lord Elrond in the depths of Imladris, and one eye blink later, Nuada joined the brothers in Elrond's private study. He was surprised to discover them preparing to travel to the earth realm, and the faint smile that crossed his face when Niall explained where they were going bordered on frightening, sending a chill down even Elrond's spine. Niall had been in contact with Eric Northman, and in answer to his demands a vampire tribunal was being convened. The actual vampire responsible for attacking Grace was obviously already dead, but he had been a newly turned creature – one that should have been better trained and looked over by his creator – and that creator was the one who would be on trial this night.

Niall Brigant could have held Eric Northman responsible, and to a degree he did, but in respect for his other great-grandchild, he had decided not to pursue revenge against the former Viking vampire . . . at least not yet anyway. He was going to allow the Sheriff of Louisiana Area 5 to redeem himself tonight, and he intended for Nuada to impress upon that vampire that while the fairies numbers might be dwindling, the ones that remained were a force to be reckoned with. Elrond had agreed. While the elves never inserted themselves into matters of the earth realm, the Lord of Rivendell had taken a personal interest in this issue, and he made it very clear to his brother he intended to come along as well. He was, after all, the one housing that vampire's victim in his home and seeing to her recovery, and not only that, both Sookie and Grace were descended from his bloodline as well. It was his right to witness the punishment of the one who harmed her, and Lord Elrond intended to do that very thing.

Sending his own silent mental summons, the threesome found themselves joined very shortly by yet another hulking warrior, an elf by the name of Glorfindel. Just as Nuada was the one Lord Niall trusted above all others, so Glorfindel the Golden Warrior was to Lord Elrond. The massive elf with the wild mane of flaming yellow hair was himself a living legend among his people, one of the only creatures in existence to slay a mighty balrog, and also one of the only creatures available that was strong enough to challenge Amarande Nuada.

Thankfully, there would be no challenging. Everyone in that study was in complete agreement what was to take place this night, and if any problems were encountered at that vampire tribunal, Lord Elrond and Lord Niall were not only trusting those two warriors to get them back out alive, they expected them to kill those vampires. It was an assignment both warriors relished, and each called out to their own private guard, a literal battalion of immortal muscle assembling itself in the corridor outside that study - twelve elven warriors in full battle attire and twelve fairy guardians dressed to kill. It was quite a show of force, and they all intended for those vampires to take note . . . and they did.

Eric Northman nearly swallowed his tongue as he stood outside the back of that warehouse in the darkness with Pam at his side, somewhat impatiently waiting for Lord Niall to appear. The vampire expected the fairy to come in the company of a few guardians, but never in his wildest dreams did he expect the sight that began to silently appear from the darkness. Stepping from the very shadows themselves, Nuada was the first to appear, leading the way for the others. He was a true sight to behold in his unrelieved black ensemble . . . the moonlight reflecting off that long brilliant blond hair, that evil spear nestled on his back . . . it was breathtaking, and if Pam the vampire had breathed, she would have stopped.

The surprises continued when his guardians followed in rapid succession, the entire dozen stepping from the shadows in unison, causing Eric's eyes to involuntarily widen. Had the vampire known this was the reception he was to receive, he would also have called on his minions to accompany him, but as it was, they were either at Fangtasia minding the store, or they were inside watching the already ensuing activities. It was an undesirable position to find himself in . . . and it only got worse.

Surprise turned into downright shock when Glorfindel appeared with a soft "pop", and when his troop of a dozen elven warriors appeared seconds later, Eric really did begin to wonder just how this night was going to end. Thankfully, that was the last portion of the warrior assembly, the final two additions being Lord Niall and Lord Elrond, neither of which seemed particularly happy. The brothers wore palpable frowns, and while Elrond had changed into a magnificently tailored dark suit that complemented his brothers, that glistening silver crown on his head was still in full reveal, telling everyone just how important he was. His brother did not wear a crown, nor did Lord Niall need to. Pure power emanated from that creature's very pores, and Eric Northman could feel it seeping his way.

Eric greeted the Lords with a courteous nod of his head, showing respect to the powerful creatures, but surprisingly, it was not Niall that took control of the situation, it was Nuada. Stepping forward, he ran cold and calculating eyes over Eric, the ancient warrior assessing every inch of the imposing former Viking standing in front of him. Nuada already knew a great deal about Eric, having thoroughly investigated both the vampire and the bar where Grace was attacked. As Grace's new guardian, it was his duty to be informed about everything that had or would touch her life - and that included Sookie Stackhouse - putting Nuada squarely in the middle of Eric Northman's business. Thankfully, meeting the vampire for the first time, Nuada liked what he saw. He recognized him as a kindred spirit and somehow knew that Eric was somewhat unlike the other vampires he had known in the past. Nuada immediately decided he would like to get to know Eric better, something that was actually a bit more of a requirement than an option, since the two were going to be working together to keep those two human girls safe in the human realm from now on.

"Suilaid mellon nín, Eric Northman," Nuada said with a curt nod. "I am Nuada, guardian to the girl who was attacked at Fangtasia. Is the one responsible here?"

"He is," Eric answered, returning Nuada's assessing stare with one of his own, "and everything is prepared inside. Other cases are being heard, but as soon as we enter, the floor will be yours."

"Very well," Nuada said, turning to the others. "Ledhim hi. We go in now . . . assemble yourselves."

Glorfindel nodded, taking a place by Nuada's side as the others fell in behind them, and Eric began to lead the strange processional of powerful creatures into the building through a huge hole in the wall where great doors had once hung. It was a large building, no more than an abandoned metal shell, old and dirty and in a state of great disrepair with broken windows and rusty things around it. This old tobacco warehouse was where the vampires of the Shreveport region held their monthly tribunals, yet this was not a scheduled meeting. It had been called together hastily by Eric to satisfy Niall's demands, because Eric Northman would do whatever was necessary to keep peace with Lord Niall . . . and those elves.

Eric Northman had purely selfish reasons for not wanting trouble with Niall Brigant, and while he never desired to have trouble with any other race, he had never held fear for the fairies . . . but that opinion was suddenly finding itself open to change. The Sheriff of Area 5 had taken careful note of Elrond's reference to Niall as his brother the night Grace was attacked, and the fact that this obviously new genre of creatures shared many of the same characteristics - including their unnerving ability to appear and disappear at will - was thought provoking to say the least. Combine that with the intimidating presence Haldir of Lórien had managed to convey during their brief meeting, then add Glorfindel's hulking presence along with an entire band of sword wielding elven warriors tonight, and Eric Northman was now absolutely positive the vampires did not want any part of a war with that pointy eared species.

Sending silent prayers for peace up to the Pagan Gods, Eric threaded the strange ensemble of visitors toward the front of the building, finding the imposing group of immortals completely unconcerned by the throng of vampires that surrounded them. Glorfindel found it only mildly interesting, but if anything, Nuada found it to be boring and completely unnecessary. If only given the opportunity, Nuada would have gladly taken care of this quickly and quietly without all the fanfare this tribunal entailed, but he well understood Lord Niall's reasoning behind it. Both Eric Northman and the King of Louisiana himself had promised protection to Sookie Stackhouse, but the vampires needed to be made aware that she deserved respect for entirely different reasons than being a telepath or Eric's girlfriend. Sookie was a descendant of royal fairy blood residing in this territory – and she was about to be joined by a second descendant named Grace. Those two humans would be given the respect that Fairy Lord demanded, and the retaliation for harming either one of them would be dire.

Reaching the center of the warehouse, the group could see that a crude stage of sorts had been set up, a large chair placed in the center of it. A very old and vicious looking vampire was seated there, thoroughly enjoying his job of handing out judgment to lesser vampires. Though this was an emergency meeting, there were always vampires who needed to be punished, and the judge had used his time waiting for this special group wisely, dutifully hearing case after case of vampire misdeeds, then handing out one harsh punishment after another.

The group watched with curiosity as the judge noted their presence, quickly rendering judgment on the pitiful vampire before him, sending him off to be wrapped in silver chains for 6 months. "Ouch," Pam muttered when she heard the old vampires words, "that's going to leave a mark!" Eric said nothing, his normally stoic demeanor firmly in place as he stood between Nuada and Glorfindel, silently observing the proceedings, impatiently waiting for the area to clear.

Once the vampire guards drug the screaming vamp away, Eric calmly escorted his group toward the eerie fluorescent brightness of the center of that building, and a palpable silence fell as they made their presence known. Without a sound, twenty-four of the fiercest immortal warriors to draw breath assembled themselves, fairy and elf alternating, forming a complete circle of intimidating strength around that stage with Eric, Pam and that judge trapped in the center. Nuada had placed himself beside Lord Niall, while Glorfindel was now standing beside Lord Elrond, and the group presented a fierce presence that no vampire judge wanted to be faced with.

Steeling himself for the inevitable, Eric bowed slightly to the judge. "Judge Malachi Villalobos, I respectfully present to you Lord Niall Brigant, Prince of the Fairies, Fey Ruler of Nárthea and his brother Lord Elrond, Elf Realm Master of Rivendell. As you are aware, a human of his bloodline was recently attacked in the parking lot of Fangtasia, and as her patriarch, he demands swift and fair justice."

The old vampire stood and nodded in respect to the two lords, before pointing a gnarled hand to his right. "Bring him out!" he ordered in a clear, harsh voice.

An older man of mixed descent was promptly dragged out by two ferocious looking vampires and dumped unceremoniously at Eric's feet. As the active sheriff of this area, he was the one ultimately responsible for his actions, and it was his duty to physically hand the other vampire over for punishment to the fairies and elves . . . or to render it himself. Eric's blank expression did not change as he spoke. "Do you admit you created the vampire known as Caleb Serrano, the newly turned one responsible for the attack at my establishment 2 nights ago?" he asked in a loud, forceful voice.

"I do," he hissed defiantly, his dark brown eyes glittering furiously as he met Eric's cold blue eyes stare head on, "and I have no regrets. Humans are good for nothing more than feasting and fucking, and if Caleb was smart enough to find him a mixed breed fairy bitch to gnaw on then I'd say he had damn good taste." Eric was unmoved by the outburst, but Niall began to shimmer slightly as he became completely enraged, and Nuada could feel his own eyes begin to sheen with crimson as he bristled, remembering the broken way Grace looked laying in that bed. Elrond felt his face flush with fury, and beside him, Glorfindel immediately placed a huge hand on the hilt of his sword, more than prepared to use it.

Eric passed the obviously ignorant vampire a warning glare to shut up, knowing those fairies and elves could make his passing pleasantly simple or excruciatingly painful, before turning back to face the judge. He nodded. They could have his stupid ass, and good riddance.

Judge Villalobos had listened to the vampires rant, and shook his head in disgust, before looking directly at Lord Niall. His voice echoed against the rusted metal walls as he spoke. "Lord Niall and Lord Elrond, you honor us with your presence here this night. I apologize that we could not meet under different circumstances. My people desire to live in peace with your people, and on behalf of King Felipe de Castro himself, I offer you his apologies for this insult, and his sincerest hope that your descendant recovers quickly. He extends his personal assurance that the two humans of your line will be protected in this territory, and we gladly honor your request for swift justice. You may punish the creature as you see fit."

Niall's expression did not change, he simply shifted his burning green eyed stare from the old vampire over to Nuada. "Kill him," he ordered firmly, "and take your time."

Nuada's eyes narrowed as they locked on the insulting form of that vampire, who was still unbelievably muttering obnoxious phrases under his breath. The mercenary's expression left little doubt that what was about to happen would not be pleasant, and Eric quickly took hold of Pam's arm and moved them out of the way. This was about to get ugly, and while he loved a good fight as much as the next vampire, this particular one was thankfully not his. Glorfindel responded to Niall's command as well, unsheathing his elaborate elven sword with a searing hiss of metal against leather, the shimmer of intricate etchings and inlays of jewels throwing wild flashes of light into the air.

The silence in that warehouse was deafening, and when that vampire spoke again, not a creature present could believe his taunting words. "I hear Caleb tore that little fairy twit all to pieces . . . did she live, or has she died yet? Bet she'll be scarred for life if nothing else."

Elrond snorted out a breath in anger at the vicious taunt, and Glorfindel immediately stepped forward, watching in pure satisfaction as the vampire bared fangs and rushed him. He could have easily severed his head with one flick of his wrist, but he did not intend to let that creature off so easily. Deftly flipping that sword to the broad side, he smacked him straight across the face, sending him reeling backwards toward the center of that concrete floor with a broken nose already gushing dark blood. "The Pinilyaer most assuredly does live, nachuithron," Glorfindel growled, raking that vampire with a predatory glare, "but you most certainly shall not."

The vampire brushed the back of his hand against his face, slinging blood in a wide arc across that filthy warehouse floor. "Makes no difference, kill me and there will be ten more to take my place come morning. We outnumber the fairies a hundred to one."

Glorfindel took another threatening step toward the vampire, twirling that sword in his hand. "Pe-channas, I am not a fairy," he grated out, just waiting for the vampire's lunge that he knew was coming, and the blood drinker did not disappoint. Coming across that floor with lightening speed, the vampire blurred, thinking he was going to do some damage here tonight, but he would never get the chance. Glorfindel was ready; only this time instead of smacking him in the face with his sword, that hulking elf met his rush head on, clamping a huge hand around his throat and jerking him clear off his feet.

Everyone watched in amazement as Glorfindel raised that helpless vampire up nearly over his head, passing a cool look over toward Nuada. "Maetho vagol gîn, Nuada," Glorfindel said with an evil smirk, taking that vampire and throwing him toward Nuada like a doll. Grace's guardian had been standing there nonchalantly watching, content to let the elf play with him for a while, but as that vampire came hurtling at him, Nuada unsheathed his war blade. Now it was his turn.

Clearly displaying for everyone why it was called the "art" of submission, Nuada took complete control of that vampire. In one fluid motion the mercenary clipped him, watching in satisfaction as the vampire hit his knees on that concrete, and before his body could even skid to a halt, Nuada had him. Shoving an unforgiving knee into his spine, he grabbed a fist full of hair and wrenched him backwards, bending him back hard enough to hear bones crack. "Let me see if I can remember what it is your Caleb did to the little mixed breed fairy bitch," Nuada spat out, deftly positioning that knife in his hand.

Even Niall grimaced as Nuada took the curved blade of that dagger and unceremoniously sliced a chunk right out of that vampire's neck, carving out the exact spot where Grace had been bitten repeatedly. He tossed the chunk of meat to the floor with a sick splat and a splash of blood, completely unmoved by the vampire's scream of rage and pain or the answering murmurs it sent rippling through the crowd. Snatching him to his feet, Nuada showed no sympathy, pure venom seeping from those now burning red eyes as he crawled up in his face. "The next time one of your kind wishes to feast on the great-grandchild of Lord Niall, they should remember what happens to the ones responsible." The ruthless mercenary ended his words by punching that vampire square in the face, visions of Grace's bruised cheek and busted mouth running through his mind as he watched him go barreling backwards . . . right into Glorfindel's waiting arms.

It was a twisted game of cat and mouse the two warriors were playing, and both were enjoying it immensely, as were the two lords watching. While Niall would always enjoy a little well deserved torture just as much as mischevious amusement, Elrond typically could not, although tonight he was making an exception. Vampires were not his most favored creatures, and what had been done to Grace was completely unacceptable. "Dago hon," the elf lord ordered loudly, "kill him."

Tightening his grip on that vampire, Glorfindel squeezed until the sounds of ribs snapping could clearly be heard throughout that warehouse. The vampire flailed wildly, but it was completely useless. He couldn't have fought his way out of that elf's giant muscled arms if his life depended on it – and it did. The golden warrior had not seen Grace's condition, but he'd certainly heard about it; and if one of those unseemly blood drinkers wanted to beat on a defenseless little human girl, they deserved what they got in return - and he'd gladly deliver it.

Slamming that vampire to the concrete with a resounding thud, the elf sent his boot against that vampire's face hard enough to dislodge both fangs. "Garo hîdh nen gurth . . . have peace in death," Glorfindel said matter-of-factly, grabbing him by the nape of the neck and the seat of the pants to send him flying back towards Nuada one last time.

Motions as smooth as flowing water took Nuada across the concrete to meet the vampire's forward motion, a single murmured word . . . "Olótëare" . . . stirring secret sacred spells, instructing a dark realm weapon ready to deliver death. Without a sound, that war blade found its way through his neck, an ancient hand firmly gripped the hilt while the evil tip clearly protruded from the back of his head. Had Nuada stopped there it would have been dramatic enough, but as everyone watched in stunned amazement, Nuada took a blade now burning with heat and ripped it downward, slicing through flesh and bone like butter, very nearly splitting that vampire in half.

Almost as if it were happening in slow motion, Nauda sheathed that glowing blade and snatched the evil looking short staffed spear from his back, severing the vampire's head even as his body was falling, then expertly flipping that weapon and slamming it through his heart with a soft crunching sound. Before the body had even hit the concrete, he had replaced it with nothing more than the gentle hiss of metal meeting leather, and his expression did not change when the vampire's head went rolling across the floor and began to disintegrate into a puddle of bubbling black goo and dark ash.

Passing a final coldly assessing look over his work, Nuada turned to address the crowd of vampires in attendance, and his words rang out in an evil tone, each and every syllable wrapped in a poisonous warning to all who could hear them. "I am known as Nuada, dark realm guardian and protector of the descendants of Lord Niall. Any harm that comes to one of the humans will be returned on you a thousand-fold, so do not forget what you have seen here this night."

Watching the strange execution finally come to an end, Judge Villalobos began to clap, accompanying it with a low evil horrible laugh that echoed through the open metal building as the other vampires in attendance joined in. "Ooohhh, I like that man already!" Pam cooed beside Eric, but the strikingly handsome vampire sheriff was not sure if he did or not.

While Eric knew a little about fairies, this was his first experience with a guardian, and only his second meeting an elf. As a former warrior himself, he had been instantly amazed at the fluid movements of both that burly elf and the intimidating guardian, but his mind was far more preoccupied with the safety of his territory and subjects, than making new friends, and he found himself completely relieved that this particular tribunal was over. The vampire knew that the somewhat surprising assessments he made outside earlier had been perfectly accurate. The vampires wanted absolutely no part of a war with this group – ever.

Retaining his cool demeanor, he patiently waited for the odd group to reassemble themselves, then silently led them back outside, anxious for them to leave. He did not understand the strange language they kept using, and he was concerned they were planning something else unpleasant. Eavesdropping on the conversation Glorfindel and Nuada were sharing as they walked behind him, Eric found them to be doing nothing of the sort, and he found himself more curious than ever about these strange new creatures that were suddenly invading his turf. Nuada was not planning another attack with that elf, he was asking Glorfindel did he actually know the English translation of the word "nachuithron", and Eric had to suppress a snicker when that hulking elf laughed and answered that yes, he most certainly did - motherfucker.

More curious then ever, Eric was still deeply relieved when the two commanders released their counterparts, the entire group of two dozen warriors simultaneously disappearing with one huge pop that resounded through against the heat of a late summer night. He knew he still needed to find some way to make amends to Lord Niall, and he continued to watch Nuada with a slight sense of apprehension, wondering just how involved that mercenary intended to make himself in Sookie's life.

Pam was not nearly so apprehensive. Blood in any form was the most erotic thing imaginable to a vampire, and she had been instantly attracted to Nuada's strange good looks and violent nature. The attractive blonde sidled right up to that mercenary without a moment's hesitation, laying her hand on his chest, then suggestively sliding it down toward the waist of his pants. "So nice to meet you," she told him in a sultry voice, flashing a hint of fang, "I do hope you'll be coming to visit again."

The foursome that remained from the elf realm passed Pam a unified look of surprise. Elves did not lend themselves to indiscriminate pleasures of the flesh, and such forward behavior was somewhat appalling. Fairies did, but Lord Niall certainly would not consider what he just witnessed to be an appropriate aphrodisiac, and gave the vampire a puzzled look. Nuada agreed. Killing a vampire did not make him want to turn around and immediately bed one, and while the mercenary sampled regularly from the wide variety of indulgences life on earth could bring, this was most certainly not the time for such things. Ever polite and well-mannered, he discreetly said nothing, casually taking a step back to remove his body from her grasp and hold himself aloof from her advances.

Eric passed Pam a blatant warning glare, interrupting the somewhat uncomfortable moment with an inquiry as to Grace's condition. "How is the girl?" he asked politely, hoping that she was recovering well.

His question was directed to Lord Niall, and as the fairy lord thought back with a slight sense of humor to their earlier conversation, he instinctively reached out to his great-grandchild with his mind, only to find himself horrified by what he found. "She is . . . dying!" he exclaimed in disbelief, Elrond's head snapping to attention at his brother's words.

"The Pinilyaer?" Glorfindel gasped, turning a pale face to Nuada. "Were you not just with her?"

"Erulissë was resting comfortably under a sleep spell when I left her side," exclaimed a shocked Nuada, knowing only hours before they had been lost in conversation. Passing knowing glances among them, the small group did not hesitate and in the next breath they were gone, leaving Eric and Pam standing in the darkness of a hot Louisiana night to wonder when they would see them again, and under what circumstances.

***************************************

As inconceivable as it seemed, in the elven realm, Grace was indeed dying. It had taken the passing of time and the simple consumption of some water and a small meal to prompt a battle as old as the ages to be fought out, only this war was being waged within the very flesh of her body . . . and it was killing her.

The elf blood Grace digested from Haldir had long since completed its arduous journey through her system, sustaining her life and preventing her death . . . but his was not the only blood lingering about. As noted at the tribunal, Caleb Serrano, the vampire that attacked her was newly turned and poorly trained. He'd been so ravenous, he'd bitten himself around the lips and tongue as he was attacking her, pouring his vampire blood into her wounds as he fed, and that blood was still there.

Haldir had done many things the night he saved Grace, responding to an inconceivably difficult situation the best way he knew how, but her dire condition had precluded him from completing one of the most fundamental tasks of treating an injury. He had not washed out that wound. Instead, Haldir had been forced to stop her bleeding the only way he could, packing the bites full of elven herbs and binding them as tightly as possible. The treatment had saved her life, but it had also trapping Caleb's contribution inside, shoving the blood of an undead deep into her flesh where it had simply been laying dormant, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

Drained and dehydrated, Grace had spent that evening downing every glass of water Nuada so obligingly gave her, and it had done so very much more than calm a parched throat and send her back to the bathroom. As she lay sleeping, that water had plumped every parched cell in her body, providing an unwitting catalyst for the vampire blood she'd absorbed, every evil cell springing to life to crawl through her body and lay claim to her veins. Now hours later, while Nuada and Glorfindel stood in Shreveport valiantly defending her honor and killing the vampire ultimately responsible for attempting to kill her, it seemed that the vampires might just emerge victorious in this fight after all.

While those two immortal warriors had torn that vampire apart with frightening ease, the battle being waged within Grace was being fought on completely different terms. Blood was the domain of the vampire, and here, the night-walkers held the upper hand. Vampire blood or "V" was notoriously potent when introduced to the human body, causing a wide variety of results that ranged from a raging sexual appetite to wildly pleasant hallucinations. Humans were now using it as an illegal drug, but a little went a very long way, and just one drop was enough to alter one's mental state for hours. Poor Grace had absorbed far more than a drop – it was more like a cup – and the effects it had on her not entirely human body that had recently been retrofitted with a fresh supply of elf blood, turned out to be the farthest thing from pleasant imaginable.

Like venom seeping outward from a snake bite, so did the recently rejuvenated vampire blood work its way outward from the tears in her neck, worming its way through her system and going to war with the elf blood already waiting there. The resulting reaction was violent at best, a clash of cultures as old as time, and a duel to the death was soon being fought out within the very confines of her body. As her blood literally boiled, sheer heat broke a tortured mind free from the sleep spell that bound it, and her panicked scream broke the stillness of a peaceful night when Grace woke up.

She had been dreaming that she was trapped in the wreckage of that silver BMW . . . and that it had caught on fire. Thankfully, it was only a terrible dream, but as her muddled mind slowly began to clear, Grace realized that she was indeed burning hot. Raising a shaking hand to her face, she found it scorching with heat, and realized she had taken a terrible fever. Sweltering, she threw off the bed covers and struggled to sit up, desperate to find relief from the waves of roaring heat that seemed to be radiating from her very core. Being upright didn't help, and her efforts were met with little more than a rush of dizziness and violent waves of nausea that came crashing down over her. Searching for a cause, her hands instinctively found their way to the bandages on her neck. They were ominously wet.

"Nuada . . ." she called out weakly, surprised when there was no response. "Nuada . . . Haldir?"

Nothing.

"Figures," she murmured, her burning brain noting the obvious irony that after having not one, but two, stunningly gorgeous men shoved up her ass for hours on end, the first time she actually needed one of them, they were nowhere in sight. Typical.

Knowing that with or without help, she absolutely had to do something to relieve her rapidly growing discomfort, Grace fought her way off the bed and into a standing position. Her body felt completely out of sorts. She was hot, sick to her stomach, dizzy and very weak, and she found herself wanting the comfort of what every sick human always wanted – to go to the bathroom.

The dizziness was overwhelming and several minutes passed before she managed to turn loose of the bedside table. It was a true task of mind over matter as Grace braced herself off the walls, and painfully worked her way down the wide hall toward that elven wash room. It took forever, every step being taken by feet that seemed weighted with lead, the corridor seeming like it intentionally stretched itself to three times its normal length, her head swimming as if it were submerged in a bucket of water. Never had a heavy wooden door in any world looked better than that one when she finally reached it, and Grace just barely managed to get through it before becoming violently ill, hanging herself over the side of a sink and throwing up repeatedly.

Between violent retches, Grace continued to call out for help, having no way to know that both Nuada and Haldir were far removed from her location. Nuada was in the midst of that tribunal back in the human world, and while she would have been happy to know the one responsible would suffer that night, Grace was the one suffering at the moment. Haldir on the other hand, was not nearly so far away, and he was thankfully beginning to catch on that something was not quite right the evening.

Deep within the halls of Imladris, Haldir had also woken from a fitful sleep, finding himself awash with sweat and uncomfortably warm. A quick look out the window told him night had fallen, and Haldir was surprised to discover he had slept the entire afternoon. He frowned as he considered his time resting. His dreams had been odd, and he could have sworn that someone was calling his name. Checking his bedchamber thoroughly, the marchwarden satisfied himself that he was indeed alone in the large accommodations he had been bequeathed for the length of his stay, but his sense of unease did not diminish.

A frown clouded his face as Haldir ran himself a bath, seeking out the very same relief Grace was so desperately searching for at the other end of that unbelievably enormous structure. He continued to listen intently as he eased into the barely lukewarm water, but hearing nothing, he focused on the task at hand. Lathering smooth porcelain skin over and over, he scrubbed until every trace of sweat was removed, and he washed that shimmering silver hair until it gleamed. Nearly an hour had passed by the time Haldir finally began to towel off, and at the other end of that building, things had gone downhill rapidly.

Having no knowledge of the workings of an elven bathroom, Grace could not run herself a cooling bath, although she frantically tried. Hot hands found their way against every section of smooth stone and each strange metal object in that room, but to no avail. Outside of the trickle she managed in that sink, she got nothing, and her frustration soon manifested itself into helpless tears. By now, her skin literally glowed with heat, and had Grace's body not been somewhat accustomed to the roaring temperatures inflicted upon it through year after year of sunbathing on the scorching South Carolina sand, she would probably have already been in a crumpled heap on that floor.

Amazingly, she did not fold. She somehow managed to stagger back to the room and collapse across the side of the bed, laying in a fevered daze while groaning out a few more raspy calls for help that went unanswered. _I am dying,_ she thought to herself, _and there is no one here to save me._ Grace had no idea how long she lay there, but finally some primal instinct told her to get up, the pure will to live asserting itself over the rigors of her deteriorated physical condition.

It is a well known fact, that a trapped diver who is running out of air will shed his gear, freeing his body to fight down to the very last breath, and Grace found herself wanting to do the very same thing. She wanted nothing more than to be out of that bed, out of that room and out of that building. She did not want to feel hot linen pressed against her flesh . . . she needed to feel the cool night air flowing over her skin, and Grace felt if she could just get onto the grounds, surely she could find some help and get some relief.

Her very soul had to bare its claws to fight free from the grip of that fever and pry her eyes open, and it took everything her bedraggled body had left to slide off that bed and get upright again. Delirious with fever, Grace was convinced if she didn't cool off, she would die . . . and that was not far from the truth . . . so gritting her teeth, she let instinct take over. Forcing one foot in front of the other, she made it to the arched opening, then out onto the balcony. Nothing. Not a soul in sight, and not so much as a cricket chirp in answer to her pleas for help.

Tears trickled down burning cheeks as Grace fought her way around that balcony, clinging to the railing for support as she doggedly continued on. She fell when she reached the garden steps, not even noticing her busted knee as she drug herself to her feet again and went drunkenly staggering through the midst of Elrond's beloved rose garden. Had Grace seen the path of withered plants she left in her wake, she would have been devastated, but it was completely dark now, the sliver of moon and sprinkling of stars providing only enough light for her bare feet to find their way down an easily discernable dirt path.

Weaving like she was fresh off a bar stool, Grace slowly worked her way among the beautiful blooms, thorns tearing at her hands as she struggled to stay on her feet. A single thought consumed her now, the overwhelming need to cool her body, to drown this fire that was eating her alive . . . drown . . . suddenly her muddled mind seized upon that idea, hazy pictures of the many waterfalls she had seen standing on that balcony pouring into her mind, teasing her with thoughts of wild water rushing over her burning flesh. There had to be rivers here somewhere, and the appealing idea of finding that cold liquid relief was enough to keep her on her feet.

It took everything ounce of strength she could muster, but unbelievably, but the time she managed to reach the edge of that garden and lean against a stone wall to catch her breath, Grace could actually hear the sound of splashing in the distance. She fought to focus her mind, wondering if it was just a dream, but it wasn't . . . there was most definitely water somewhere close by. Praying she could make it, she pushed herself away from that wall, but her strength was ebbing, and with every touch of toes to dirt, the fire in her grew worse. Soon, it became hard to see, hard to hear, hard to even breath.

Knowing in her heart that she would never make it, Grace managed a final desperate look around, but found no water . . . only the lush greenery of thick underbrush, massive trees and a smattering of boulders. Faltering steps took her toward the nearest tree trunk, where Grace collapsed in a heap beneath its branches. Everything faded from her, and as Grace slipped into unconsciousness, her mind cried out one last time for help . . . and this time, she was finally heard.

***************************************

The feeling that something was not right had haunted Haldir from the moment those indigo eyes opened this night, his hands continually pausing as he dressed himself, his ears straining to hear something that seemed to linger just out of reach as he slid into clothes by force of habit. His fingers had tapped impatiently while he waited for a cup of tea to brew, and just as he was raising the glass to his lips the connection was finally made. Like a bolt of lightening through his brain, Haldir could hear Grace calling out to him, her strange voice raw with pain as it tore through his mind. That cup hit the floor in the very same instant that her body hit the ground, and he was out the door within seconds, running through the twisting corridors of Imladris like a madman.

His mind raced as fast as his feet flew, silently screaming out for Nuada, Elrond, Niall . . . anyone to tell him what was happening. The simple words "earth realm" he received in silent reply told him nothing outside of they were not here to help him, but thankfully Gandalf was. Once gain alerted to a terrible occurrence being played out by that all powerful palantír stone on his desk, his long robes hissed along the corridor stones when the wizard came bursting out of the adjoining hallway to meet him.

"Something is amiss with the Pinilyaer! What is it?" Gandalf demanded, falling right into step alongside the marchwarden.

"I know not, but something terrible is wrong," Haldir answered hurriedly, continuing his race toward the far south end of the structure. His panic grew with every passing moment, the intolerable heat in his own veins growing with every step that carried him closer to Grace. He had no way of knowing that the blood bond between them was causing it, but by the time he came bursting through the doorway of that bedchamber, he was sweating again.

His hand found its way against a beaded brow as Haldir searched frantically for Grace, trying to make sense of what he saw. The room was empty, the only notable sign of her presence a few smears of bright red blood marring the snowy linens of that bed. Considering where she may have gone, he rushed back to the bathroom, flinging the door open, finding evidence that Grace had been there - had been terribly ill - but yet again, the room was now empty.

Gandalf was standing over her bed when Haldir returned, ancient hands wrinkled with age running over stained linens. The heat her burning body had given off still warmed them, and Gandalf's head shot up with an alarmed expression. "The Pinilyaer is fevered!" he exclaimed.

Haldir was beside him in an instant, his pounding heart freezing in place when his own hand touched the simmering heat still lingering within the crevices of those blankets. For hours instinct had nagged him, telling him something was terribly wrong, yet he did not listen, and he prayed they were not too late. Determined to find her, he closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind, somehow sensing . . . _knowing_ . . . that Grace had left that building. Forcing his mind to focus on nothing outside of her, he could literally feel her presence, could sense the shallow breaths she was struggling to take, could feel the warmth of bare soil pressing against her body.

His feet barely touched the floor as he ran out onto the balcony, not even pausing to glance as he tore around the side of that structure, clearing the stairs in one leap and racing down the garden paths. His gaze ripped left to right, every withered branch showing him she had been there, but done telling him where she was now. As quickly as possible, Haldir worked his way among the flowering shrubs, carefully peering up and down each grassy walkway, but even with the excellent night vision of a woodland elf, he saw nothing. Frustrated, he internally seethed. He could feel himself drawing closer to Grace, but these were frequently used paths and it was dark. There was no good way to track her, outside of gut instinct and the growing heat in his veins.

Stopping to stare at yet another lifeless rose bush, Haldir forced himself to concentrate harder. _Where would she have gone?_ Then suddenly it came to him . . . water! Without so much as a cursory glance to the wizard who'd finally managed to catch up to him, Haldir was off again, racing down the path that led toward the wading pools like someone being chased by a rabid warg.

The path was a narrow and winding one, crowded with huge plants and overhung with giant ferns, but at the second widening, he finally glimpsed her, nothing more than a little lump laying beneath the hanging branches of a massive tree. His knees dug into the soft dirt he hit them so hard, Grace's body both burning and limp as he scooped her into his arms. He could not believe the horrible condition she was in, yet somehow he could, finding his own body now lit from within just from his proximity to her.

Gandalf followed closely behind, oblivious to the dirt and grass ruining his pristine robes as he quickly knelt beside him. Haldir looked panic stricken, and when Gandalf put his hands on that human girl's face, he instantly knew why. "Such heat as I have never felt before," he said with growing concern, his hands beginning to race over her body, feeling the condition of her aura. It was dire.

"What am I to do?" Haldir asked desperately. "She cannot die."

"To the wading pools!" Gandalf told him breathlessly. "We will cool her." He lurched to his feet, calling upon the light in his staff to lead their way as he quickly began to work his way down the path, shoving plants aside as Haldir followed on his heels, holding Grace carefully in his arms.

It took some time, but finally the sound of running water grew loud in their ears, and after one last turn they were there. The clearing contained one of the smaller waterfalls, a graceful stream of falling water ending with soothing splashes against huge grey boulders and providing a good size pool of quiet clear water at the bottom. It was a favorite quite spot for the elves of Imladris to come and relax, but tonight it would be a place for something quite different.

Walking toward the water, Haldir paused and looked to Gandalf for guidance, but the wizard just kept motioning the marchwarden forward. "Go in! Go in!" he insisted, waving his hands insistently. Cautious of his footing, Haldir did as instructed, wading in waist deep and placing them close to the falling water so the coolness of it would gently flow over her.

The marchwarden was hoping that cold water would provide Grace with some immediate relief, but unfortunately, it did not. The girl was so far gone she did not even know she was in Haldir's arms, or that the cold water she fought so hard to reach was finally flowing over her. Her flesh burned with a violent heat, her bright red skin so hot it was nearly burning his hands just to hold her in the water. "You must come help me," he called to Gandalf, "she is not cooling!"

Without hesitation, Gandalf waded right in, oblivious to the sodden mass of heavy robes now swirling around him. Carefully, he worked the bandages from her neck, hoping that perhaps the water running through the wounds would wash them out and help ease her condition somehow. It did nothing, and the two men soon found themselves exasperated. Despite everything they were doing, Grace was indeed dying, being slowly cooked from the inside out by an insidious heat emanating from the very blood in her veins.

"What is wrong with her?" Haldir asked in confusion. "Never have I seen such a thing!"

Gandalf frowned terribly. His mind had been frantically working this situation during the entire time they had been in that water, and after tearing those strips of linen off her neck and studying the pure gnaw marks that vampire left in her flesh, he could only offer the logical guess that somehow the bites had poisoned her; unfortunately, he did not know how to fix that problem. The powerful wizard had great magical powers, but even he did not have the power to replace someone's very blood. With each passing moment, the situation grew more desperate, and Gandalf finally decided to act upon the only thing he had to offer. "Take her from the water," he urgently requested.

Haldir quickly obeyed, ever careful of his footing as he came out of the pool, cautious not to jostle Grace more than necessary. Laying her gently on the grass, he prayed to the Valar for guidance as Gandalf closed his eyes and placed his hands over Grace's body. Slowly the deep voice began to recite strange words the marchwarden had never heard before. The air around them grew still, and a strange mist came to surround them as the words continued to flow, and with each syllable that passed over ancient lips Grace's body grew quieter. By the time Gandalf finished speaking and passed a tired expression to Haldir, it seemed as if the human girl was frozen in place, and indeed she was.

"I can do no more," Gandalf reluctantly admitted. "The stasis spell I have wrought shall last only an hour, no longer. If we can find no help for Grace in that time, I fear the Pinilyaer is doomed."

The color drained from Haldir's face as Gandalf's words slowly took hold, and he stared at the wizard in sheer disbelief. He could not imagine that the Valar would be so cruel as to take the life of that fragile human girl this night – not after all she had been through! "The Valar are merciful!" he said forcefully. "Never will I believe that Grace is doomed!"

His powerful statement was still resounding against the rush of the water behind them when the group returning from that tribunal came rushing into that clearing. "What is this?" Lord Elrond demanded. "What has happened in my absence?"

Haldir looked up with a desperate expression, terrified what would happen to him should Grace die, but Gandalf was on his feet in an instant, placing himself between the upset marchwarden and the group of disturbed newcomers. "A fever has taken her," the wizard revealed very matter-of-factly. "I fear the bites have somehow poisoned the Pinilyaer, turning her very blood against her. The stasis spell I have drawn will hold her for an hour – perhaps even a wee bit longer - but I can offer nothing more".

Everyone paled at the unexpected news, the entire group stepping closer to peer down at Grace in complete disbelief. They could not believe the human's devastated condition. Such a short time before they were all speaking to her, and she had seemed stable. Nuada in particular was shaken, knowing he had left her alone, and wondering if he was somehow responsible.

Placing a comforting hand on Nuada's arm, Lord Niall spoke. It was only at his command that Nuada had left Grace, and there was no blame to be placed here this night - only the immediate need to solve the problem of her current condition. "Brother, you are an accomplished healer. What can be done?"

Lord Elrond had already dropped to his knees beside Grace, completely oblivious to that immaculate new suit as his hands roaming her flesh just as Gandalf's had earlier, carefully considering the heat roaring through her, sensing the condition of her rapidly diminishing aura. His healing powers were great, but this was unlike any condition he had ever witnessed. "I do not know," he answered honestly, looking up at Nuada. "What can you tell me of these creatures, the blood drinkers? Hortho! Hurry, Nuada! Tell me everything you know!"

Nuada's mind raced as he began to speak. The mercenary knew his words would be difficult to hear, but perhaps they would help. "I know much about the vampires, or blood drinkers are you call them. The strength of their blood is remarkable, and the humans use it as a drug in their world," he offered in a strained voice. "It would be easy to assume, as Gandalf suggested, that some of the creature's blood became mixed with Erulissë's when she was bitten, and if there was enough, it easily could have poisoned her. But Erulissë has taken blood from Haldir – we have already discussed that she has been touched by the blood of an immortal – if that blood has turned, what can possibly be done to reverse it?"

"The original circumstances will have to be recreated," Gandalf answered firmly, shocking everyone in that clearing into silence. "The Pinilyaer's blood will have to be removed and replaced again by Haldir . . . it can be no other. There are too many forces already at work here. We dare not risk the introduction of anything else foreign to the child."

Hearing that wizard's suggestion, a look of complete horror came over Haldir's face, and his typically steady demeanor cracked. "You cannot possibly be suggesting that we drain the blood from this human girl again, and then expect me to replace it again," he hissed, his reaction so strong it surprised everyone - even himself. They all exchanged uncomfortable looks, wondering if that was indeed what needed to happen here, and as Grace managed a pitiful moan, they came to the rapid realization that whatever needed to happen, better start taking place – and fast.

Nuada felt the same way Haldir did - Gandalf absolutely had to be kidding - and the growing strain of the night's events showed clearly on the mercenary's face. "How the hell are we supposed to get the blood out of her?" he nearly screamed. "Am I to simply take my blade and slice her open so it might pour out on the ground?"

"Do not speak of such a ridiculous thing, even in jest!" Elrond snapped, climbing to his feet. "Although I fear in a some alternate form, that is exactly what must happen." He turned to Niall. "Can Savan do this?"

Niall had been standing there listening to this unbelievable conversation, finding himself returned to the unenviable mental debate he waged immediately after Grace was attacked, and the information was the same . . . no, he did not believe replacing the blood of a human fell within the expertise of Savan . . . no, a group of supernatural beings certainly could not waltz into a hospital, and politely ask them to drain a human's blood so they could take her back to an alternate realm and fill her up again with elf blood again . . .so what to do?

Once again, that fierce fairy light broke through as Niall became more and more frustrated, and that entire clearing was lit by the time that fairy finally retched out his solution. "The vampires are the ones responsible for harming Grace, and the vampires are the ones who will help to heal her. Prepare my great-grandchild to be taken to the human realm as soon as I return." Without another sound or glance, Niall disappeared, leaving everyone in that clearing wondering just what he intended to do.

***************************************

Few things surprise Eric Northman, but when he climbed out of that gleaming new red Corvette behind Fangtasia after returning from the tribunal, he was certainly about to be surprised.

After unfolding his long, lean body off warm grey leather and closing the car door, he was taking a much needed quiet moment to admire his newly acquired possession. Eric got a brand new red Corvette in the early fall of each year the very week they came out, and he'd had this one for under a month. Absently flicking away a speck of dust that had settled on the roof, he suddenly became aware of Pam's frog eyed stare coming back at him across that car, only it wasn't directed at him, it was glued on something _behind_ him.

Baring fangs, Eric flipped around in an instant . . . only to find himself in the very last place he thought he would be this evening . . . backed up against his car with a fairy in his face. While Eric could easily rip Niall Brigant's throat out, that fairy could reduce him to dust with a thought, so to say their relationship was tenuous was somewhat of an understatement. They survived on forced mutual respect, their communication more of an unavoidable toleration than an actual desire to speak to one another, but at this particular moment, Niall intended to talk, and Eric Northman better be listening.

"My great-grandchild is dying," he growled out viciously, so close in Eric's face that delicious fairy breath seeped along his skin. "The bite of that detestable vermin you let loose in your parking lot has poisoned her, and if her blood is not removed and replaced again, she is going to die."

Eric's eyebrows involuntarily rose with each word, and he could feel tiny tingles working their way up his spine by the time that fairy finished. Niall promised him if that girl died, he would too, and being fresh from the scene played out at that tribunal, Eric believed that threat could become an all too harsh reality if he wasn't very careful. "What do you want me to do?" he asked in a strained voice.

"I EXPECT you to do it," Niall hissed in return.

Do it. Eric's mind scrambled. This was not a sports commercial, and he did not know exactly what he was supposed to be doing over here . . . then it hit him . . . and those eyebrows really did reach for the sky. "You want me to drain that girl again?" he asked in complete surprise.

"As I just said, I expect you to," Niall snarled out angrily, "so name a place, and be there in fifteen minutes . . . and might I suggest instead of considering any tricks, that you spend that time wisely praying my great-grandchild does not expire before we bring her there."

Eric was stunned, and even though that blank vampire look was in full force, he was still positive the shock showed on his face. "It will take more than one . . . and if she has truly been poisoned, then only the oldest will be able to help. I will need at least one other, possibly two."

Fairy light shimmered over every inch of Niall as he answered, pure fire flying from those strange sea green eyes as they locked onto Eric. "You may bring one of your others along if that is what it takes, but do not make me remind you what will happen if they cause any problems."

Glancing around, Eric found himself utterly relieved to see a black Cadillac Escalade in that parking lot a few spaces over. Logan should be inside, and that was the second vampire he would be needed help from this night. "There will be no problems," Eric assured him. "My house is about twenty minutes from here, and it's certainly a suitably private place. I'll get the other vampire I need, and we'll meet you there. Let me give you some directions . . ."

Niall interrupted him immediately, not waiting for Eric to even finish the sentence. "You have fifteen minutes exactly, and I do not need directions. I can find you anywhere." As the last sounds left his lips, Niall disappeared, leaving Eric to stand in stunned silence for a moment. It didn't last, and within seconds, Eric had collected himself and gone tearing through the back door of that bar. Once again, he had places to go and people to see, but he would certainly not be going alone!


	6. Fey Fever

Chapter 6 – Fey Fever

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Sookie Stackhouse intended to prove that to Eric Northman this night. Not only had that sorry blond haired bastard of a vampire not shown up for their date, he didn't even take the time to call, and when she found him, she intended to tell him exactly what she thought about that. There were rules to this relationship, and tonight that jerk off was not following them!

Sweating even with the air conditioner on, Sookie jacked up the radio and popped two Tylenol on the drive over from Bon Temps, finding herself somewhat surprised when that red Corvette was not in the parking lot of Fangtasia. That blonde waitress had shared enough blood with Eric Northman over the past few years to share a damn strong connection with him – and she'd been positive he was at Fangtasia – and that he was doing something he shouldn't be. Obviously, whatever was more important than her tonight was more important than work too, and Sookie was determined to find out what that something was. She seethed as she wheeled her car out of the gravel parking lot, squealing tires when she hit pavement and headed across town. For some inexplicable reason, her gut was saying he'd gone to his house – and if the thing he was "doing" tonight just so happened to be another woman, she was going to make him one sorry somebody to be sure . . . because unless that other woman was dying, his ass was grass.

***************************************

Unfortunately for Eric Northman, somebody was dying, and that somebody had just arrived. Eric had tried to warn Logan about what he'd see here tonight, but the poor creature still nearly jumped out of his skin when they started appearing, and by the time that den was full of men with pointed ears plus one wet, limp human, his mouth was about to hit the floor . . . and understandably so. Who in their right mind would have imagined that inside a large brick house nestled deep within a typical suburb with tidy lawns and perfect sidewalks, two vampires were about to drain the blood out of a girl while five hostile fairies and elves watched? Not one soul, because it was one pretty damn unique situation - and it was only going to get worse, before it got better.

Not only had Lord Niall and Lord Elrond returned flaunting far deeper frowns and a tangible sense of animosity, Nuada and Glorfindel were back in the human realm as well . . . along with one very unhappy marchwarden general holding a cold, dripping human in his arms. They found themselves met by three vampires, and it was a supernatural standoff of monumental proportions. Eric and Logan were standing beside the couch, since that was where Eric decided this was going to happen, while Pam was seated at the kitchen bar watching. She was going to be a silent observer - and a little blonde haired insurance policy in case something went wrong - and there were other vampires watching as well, hidden in the shadows and shrubs around that house. They were not going to get involved, but if something went wrong, they would be inside that house in an instant.

Eric immediately found himself wondering if that was going to be right now when Haldir came stalking across that den and put himself right in his face. "Where are we going to do this?" the elf hissed, his eyes speaking volumes. Haldir certainly hoped he did not need to remind Eric that both their asses were on the line here. Lord Niall promised they would BOTH die if Grace did, so audience or not, it was time to get on with the human saving here, because with every passing moment, Grace got worse.

"I believe the couch will do," Eric answered calmly, motioning to huge black leather couch beside him. He most certainly did not need to be reminded of the gravity of this situation, and he watched somewhat impatiently as Haldir gently laid Grace down. It was quite obvious that silver haired elf was agitated to an almost infinite level by these circumstances, and Eric could tell it would take very little to push him right over the edge – just what he needed in his den after witnessing the pleasantries that just took place at that tribunal! "Whatever happens here, contain yourself," he told Haldir under his breath, "because I can promise you, this girl is not going to die." Haldir said nothing in return. He just clenched his teeth and stared at Grace's burning red face.

"Hortho! Hurry, the both of you! This is not a time for conversation, or the Pinilyaer most certainly is going to die!" Elrond growled out roughly, demanding to see immediate action from that vampire and the marchwarden under his command. His eyes were also locked on Grace's flaming flesh, and he knew if she didn't get some immediate relief, there was an excellent chance she was going to suffer some permanent damage from this.

Unable to stop himself from passing Elrond a smart-ass glare in return, Eric turned his attentions to Grace. She was dripping water on his furniture and his floor, but that was the least of his worries. Those horrible tears in her neck were uncovered and seeping blood, and Eric could not help but be disturbed by the way they looked. It was no wonder the group of pointy eared visitors were all watching him like he was about to chew Grace's head off . . . from the looks of those injuries, it seemed a vampire already did.

Obviously displeased, Eric frowned as he coldly looked over the rest of her. The thin wet gown left little to the imagination, but he could not care less about that right now. He cared about how big the human girl was, and how much blood was in her. Thankfully Grace was small, and Eric felt a sense of relief. Logan and him should be able to drain her without having to get Pam involved, because only the oldest vampires could tolerate ingesting poisoned blood, and under himself, Logan was one of the two oldest in this territory. If Pam had to help, he knew she gladly would, but she would suffer terribly for it later, and he did not want to ask that of her.

"I will go first," Eric announced, popping out his fangs. "Logan, come and hold her down."

Before he moved the first inch, Logan found Nuada in his face. "Hold her?" Nuada demanded harshly. "Why does anyone need to hold Erulissë down?" At hearing Eric's statement, that mercenary had instantly shifted himself across the den, placing himself between the unfamiliar vampire and the human he was assigned to guard laying on that couch. Nuada's expression left little doubt how unimpressed he was with Eric's command, and the hand that now gripped around the handle of his war blade didn't look very encouraging either.

A strained silence ensued and Haldir passed an uncomfortable look over to Glorfindel silently warning the golden warrior to be prepared. Eric might be worried about him losing control during this, but it seemed the vampires were worried about the wrong visitor. Haldir was sure he'd make it through this just fine, but he was getting the very distinct feeling somebody was going to be wrestling Nuada off a vampire before this was over.

Logan met Nuada's glare head on, surprising him, and Eric shadowed around that couch and planted himself right beside his friend. Eric had been very impressed with the mercenary's actions at the tribunal, but this was his house, and draining Grace was his task to complete. He intended to do it - his way - right now. "It is going to take both Logan and I to drain this girl, and there is an excellent chance at some point she is going to wake up," he told Nuada matter-of-factly. "Obviously, if she is scared, she is going to fight us and most likely hurt herself, so somebody needs to hold her down and now."

Well that was a stunner of a revelation, and everyone froze as they considered it. Not even Niall or Elrond had contemplated that Grace might wake up during this horrible but necessary scenario, and they could hardly imagine what her reaction might be if she did. Silent thoughts flew, and frowns deepened, but that clock was ticking . . . somebody had to make a move, and finally, Haldir did. "I will hold her," he announced, promptly seating himself on the couch and pulling her legs into his lap. "Eric, begin."

Everyone watched with bated breath, as Eric came back round that couch and ran his eyes down Grace's body yet again. That girl's neck was ruined, and the only other veins good for a complete draining were in the groin. "I'm going to need you to move to her head," he reluctantly said, with an almost visible cringe.

Haldir stared at Eric strangely, but obligingly got up and moved, reseating himself at the opposite end of the couch and pulling Grace's head into his lap. He had not caught on to Eric's intentions yet, nor had the others, but Logan had to suppress an almost gleeful smirk. The good looking blond vampire had been less than enthusiastic when Eric demanded he come along for this - and the situation was certainly not funny - but he was going to get to drain a human by biting her on the inside of her thigh? Alright! This was getting more appealing by the minute - but only to the vampires – and it was not going to last.

Steeling himself, Eric knelt beside the couch and pulled Grace toward him, running his hands up her leg and lifting that gown as he did. Suddenly, everyone figured out where that vampire was headed, and a virtual chorus of protests went echoing through that room as every elf and fairy in attendance simultaneously cried out. Niall nearly burst into flames, and Lord Elrond had his hands full restraining him, while Glorfindel's hand automatically went to his sword. The elf warrior felt like he needed to intervene, but he honestly didn't know who with. Haldir had placed himself over Grace in a protective stance, while Nuada now had his war blade pressed under that vampire's chin.

"Disrobing that human is not an option, vampire," Nuada coldly informed him. The burning glare of emerald eyes in conjunction with that glistening blade pressed to his neck silently told Eric that death was the only thing he would find inside that gown, but the vampire knew death was the only thing Grace was going to find if he didn't.

Eric was unmoved, and passed an unaffected glance up to Nuada. "Her neck is ruined, so it's the thigh or she dies. Somebody better decide." The visiting group all stared at the vampire in disbelief, but Eric obviously wasn't kidding, and when he cleared his throat a second time, Eric glanced over to Niall. This was his great-grandchild, and if that fairy wanted her to live, then he needed to tell everyone to just back the fuck off and let the vampires save her.

"Nuada, daro," Niall reluctantly commanded, watching the guardian reluctantly sheath his blade and step aside. "Do what is necessary to save my great-grandchild," he told Eric with a grimace, turning away so he would not have to watch.

Everyone else did watch, and they were flabbergasted by what they saw. Eric quite matter-of-factly dragged Grace's wet body across the leather closer to him, then rolled her sodden gown up to her hips, ignoring Haldir's hissed breath and Nuada's cursing when he did. Then as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world, he looped a cool hand under her knee and spread her legs apart, actually pulling the closest one up and draping it over his shoulder.

It looked more like something out of a porn flick than an attempt to save someone's life, and a collective gasp circled the room when Eric ran his tongue over his fangs in anticipation. Niall still had his back turned, but Elrond's mouth actually fell open as he watched Eric Northman's head slowly sink between that human's legs, and Glorfindel shuddered when those rosy lips parted and Eric began to lick her flesh, preparing it. Soon enough, two long glistening white fangs pierced the delicate flesh at the very top of a bronzed thigh, and soft sucking sounds began competing with palpable silence as Eric began to feed. It added a whole new meaning to the words "silent as death" but that intolerable silence was about to be broken in the worst way imaginable.

It had been the most uncomfortable several minutes in recent memory for most of the pointed eared creatures in that room as everyone desperately tried to avert their eyes from the intolerable scene on that couch, but could not. Nuada's grip on the leather arm of that sofa had tightened to the point his fingers were in real danger of piercing it, while Haldir seemed to have slipped into some state of mild shock. Things were no better in the other half of the room, where Elrond was still trying to comfort his brother, and Pam had turned her affectionate attentions on Glorfindel.

The golden warrior had placed himself over by the kitchen bar, because it was a great vantage point and he could see everything that was happening, but it also put him beside Pam, and after being warned by Eric not to so much as ever look at Nuada again, that amorous vampire was hunting new quarry. Turned on by the erotic sight and sounds of Eric feeding, her ravenous eyes were now firmly locked on Glorfindel, repeatedly assessing every inch of that striking muscular frame. Her own fangs had begun to extend, and Pam was finding herself ready to do a little biting of her own. Unable to resist the temptation, Pam casually reached over and ran a teasing hand up his arm, startling Glorfindel with her aggression and her compliment. "I just loved watching you tonight," she cooed suggestively, "and I was wondering if you'd let me play with your sword sometime . . ."

At a complete loss for words, the stunned elf stared down at her, trying to come up with a suitable rebuttal, but lucky for him, Glorfindel was not going to have to. At that very moment, Sookie Stackhouse came busting through the front door of that house like a woman possessed, but she did not get very far. The blond waitress from Bon Temps had already decided on the drive over what she intended to say to that sorry vampire boyfriend of hers, but the well rehearsed words died on her lips as she found herself suddenly frozen, incapable of comprehending what she had discovered inside that room.

An avalanche of emotions came roaring over her as Sookie's mind recorded every unbelievable image in slow motion _. . . there was Logan from Fangtasia looking like a cat that just downed a canary . . . a scary blond man dressed in weird black clothes was standing beside him looking threatening with a spear of all things hanging on his back . . . Pam was sitting in the kitchen beside another enormous scary blond man who was looking down at her like she was a fungus growing on that bar stool . . . her great-grandfather and some other important looking dark haired man seemed very upset about something . . . wait . . . her great-grandfather was at Eric's house?? . . . and there was some wildly attractive man with silver hair on the couch with Eric and Eric was . . . Eric was . . ._

Sookie didn't have even a silent mental description for what Eric Northman was doing right that moment, but her eyes had stretched open to dinner plate size as she took it all in. Sookie had seen more than her fair share of vampires drinking blood fresh from the source, so the fact that Eric was feeding from a human in itself was not that disturbing; but she was supposed to be the only human those particular fangs were sucking on these days, and any girl would readily admit that seeing their boyfriend's head buried in another woman's crotch was a bit unique. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, repeating the gesture at least five times without a single sound coming out. It was the southern guppy gulp, the fish out of water gasp, the WTF are you doing and just who are you doing it to because I'm speechless mouth motion - and it got everyone's attention. So did her face, because Sookie looked like she was either going to pass out, or throw up, and everyone was waiting to see which it going to be.

"Better watch out," Pam said dryly, "human's gonna hurl."

"I am not!" Sookie finally managed to answer, although she honestly felt like she was. For the past two days she had been feeling terrible, and tonight that feeling had gotten much worse. Now standing in the den of Eric's house, she felt like someone hit her over the head with a brick, and she had no idea why – but she was beginning to.

Sookie Stackhouse was a telepath – a pretty damn good one – but she could not read one thing from the pointy eared creatures in that room. Fairies and elves were extremely powerful at mind communication, but as was their polite habit, when they were not speaking to one another, their thoughts were blocked from one another – and from Sookie. Vampires were technically dead and had no brain waves, so there was certainly no mental communication coming her way from them, so that only left one brain in the entire room for Sookie to listen to, and she was hearing her cousin loud and clear.

The last coherent thoughts running through Laurel Grace's mind before the fever hit were vivid recollections of the information Lord Niall shared with her earlier that afternoon about being attacked, and as Sookie's eyes came to lock firmly on the flushed, sodden form of a human girl crumpled on a leather couch, she siphoned those memories right out of Grace's brain. In the time it took most people to ask a single question, Sookie already had the answers to dozens, and they did not make her happy – as a matter of fact, they downright pissed her off! A girl most certainly did get attacked behind Fangtasia two nights ago – a human girl named Grace, who just so happened to be her part fairy blood cousin and was at that very moment laying on her boyfriend's couch!

Within seconds, Sookie's internal mood meter swung from bitch mode - Eric stood me up and better not be cheating on me - straight over to Eric Northman is a liar and so is Niall Brigant, and if there was anything anyone knew about Sookie Stackhouse they knew that she did not take kindly to liars – particularly when it involved her friends or her family. Shaking because she was so mad, her hands hit those hips in perfect Sookie Stackhouse form and she literally stalked across that room, coming to rest within inches of Eric's bunked over ass. Everyone watched with curiosity as Sookie carefully looked over her cousin for the very first time, just waiting for the explosion to come, but thankfully, it did not.

As Sookie's eyes ran over that busted face and those horrible tears in her neck, she could literally feel what was happening to Grace just as clearly as if she was the one on that couch, and the strong mental connection was exactly the same as she felt in Fangtasia that first night. Sookie might be on the verge of strangling her vampire boyfriend for not telling her that she'd been sitting within a stone's throw of her very own cousin while she was attacked, but that was not Grace's fault – and at that particular moment, Sookie just wanted to know if her new cousin was going to live or not.

"Why is Eric having to feed on her? What is wrong with my cousin?" Sookie demanded loudly, passing a hateful look from Eric to Haldir and back again. Eric glanced up at Sookie impatiently. He was obviously a little busy at the moment, and he hoped like hell she wasn't expecting him to answer those questions right now! She returned his smart-ass glance with one of her own. Sookie could promise Eric Northman when he got off that floor, he was never going to forget their conversation, but that was gonna come later . . . right now, she wanted her question answered, and her pointed stare landed on the next closest creature – Haldir of Lórien.

Without a moment's hesitation, Sookie eased right into that poor creature's face, backing him into the corner of that couch until he didn't have anywhere else to go, but that elf wasn't saying a word. Haldir had already suffered through his first unpleasant encounter with a hostile human girl, and he did not intend to repeat it! He just clamped his mouth shut, and passed a pointed look to Nuada. That guardian mercenary was the self-proclaimed earth girl expert of the group, so he could just do his job as the pointy eared human handler and get this chick out of his face!

Nuada passed Haldir a "bite me" look right back in return, but soon found those sentiments seconded from across the room. It was no secret from Sookie's thoughts that she was not particularly happy with her great-grandfather at the moment, so Nuada was instantly voted to be the supernatural information sharer for tonight. It was not a position the guardian was striving for, but like Haldir he was under orders here, and no one wanted Sookie to interrupt Eric.

Suppressing a frown, Nuada clasped his hands behind his back and instantly recreated the sympathetic expression Grace seemed to favor, then used his most gentle mortal-soothing tone to call out to Sookie. "Hello Sookie," he said quietly, trying to draw her attention away from the couch. "I am Nuada, and if you will allow me, I will be glad to explain who everyone is and what is happening here."

Sookie ripped a glare over Haldir that nearly made his hair stand on end, threw a scathing "your ass is mine" visual threat down at Eric, then walked over to the guardian. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she stared up at him, and Nuada knew she was one very unhappy human girl. "As I believe you have already surmised, the young lady on the couch is Lord Niall's great-granddaughter, Erulissë," he told her. "You would know your cousin by the human name of Grace. The elf seated with her is the Marchwarden General, Haldir of Lórien. He has been assisting in her care since she was injured, while I am here as her guardian to ensure her safety."

Nuada was reading her thoughts like the morning paper, and he stopped for a moment to allow Sookie to catch up. He knew she was comparing him to her own guardian - the fairy, Claudine – and she was also wondering what a marchwarden was, but that was before she caught the rest of what he said. Nuada called Haldir an elf . . . not a fairy.

Sookie looked at Nuada with a strange expression. She had already observed the pointed ears, but just assumed since her great-grandfather was a fairy, they all were. She assumed wrong, and while Nuada continued to offer Sookie a compassionate expression, he was making some rather pointed silent mental demands of his own, very specifically telling Lord Niall to get his sorry ancient ass involved in this conversation and explain exactly what he wanted explained to his other great-grandchild!

Already reeling from the condition they discovered Grace in after the Tribunal, Lord Niall had never expected to be faced with Sookie tonight, and it was taking him a moment to catch up as well. The fairy lord knew she was involved in a personal relationship with Eric, but he never dreamed she might show up here tonight! His ultimate goal in getting Grace to Shreveport was for the two girls to meet, but this set of circumstances was as far from the way he imagined that scene to unfold as anything ever had been. Unfortunately, the situation could not be helped, and as he considered the concern clearly showing on her face, he quickly went to her side.

"Sookie, my dear child, will you please come over here and speak with me?" Niall said gently. "I apologize, I should have spoken to you of these things much sooner. Please forgive me."

"Forgive you?" Sookie snarled. "Have you looked on that couch? Do I look like the one who needs to be forgiving you right this minute? You lied to me! You and Eric both did . . . and after everything I've been through, how dare you! Has she been living here the whole time? Right under my nose and you didn't even tell me? You let me find out by accident only after she gets torn apart by a vampire – at my boyfriend's bar? And elves? You never told me there were elves to go along with the fairies! You should have . . ."

"Stop!" Niall hissed. His sea green eyes were luminous, burning with a strange white fire as he looked down at Sookie. The fairy lord had a breaking point like every other creature, and he was rapidly approaching it. He had endured as much this particular night as he could, and while he loved Sookie dearly, this was not the better time for him to be receiving his first berating from her! "I love you with all my heart child, but you need to stop speaking and start listening if you wish to know what is happening in this place tonight!" he told her firmly.

Sookie frowned desperately and almost laid into him again, but some not so subtle mental nudges coming her way from both Elrond and Nuada subdued that urge. She closed her mouth without uttering another word, and with a whole lot of silent mental assistance, allowed Niall to escort her over to the kitchen area and politely get her seated on the bar stool next to Pam. Sookie found it oddly soothing to be sitting beside someone familiar – even if that someone was a female vampire - considering all the intimidating looking men in that room, and took a minute to collect herself.

Niall did the same, and it was a moment before he spoke to her again. "As I believe you have now discovered, the girl on that couch is the same girl who was harmed two nights ago at Fangtasia. Her name is Grace and yes, Sookie, she is also my great-grandchild. To my current knowledge, the two of you are my only living descendants here on earth, but no, she does not live anywhere near Shreveport. Grace is from South Carolina, and she was only in Louisiana because I encouraged her to visit. My intentions were to introduce myself, and then hopefully introducing the two of you as well, but unfortunately, things have gone terribly awry . . ." he paused, looking so distraught that Sookie honestly felt sorry for him.

"Now I love you dearly, but let there be no mistaking either by you or any other creature, that it was not my intention for the two of you to meet under such duress, nor would I have ever knowingly brought Grace to Louisiana had I known she would be harmed . . . I will do any and every thing in my power to keep you and Grace both safe – which is why I have just come from a tribunal at which the vampire ultimately responsible met his death by the hands of that guardian across the room who just introduced himself – Nuada - and this nice young elven guard beside you named Glorfindel. And to answer your final question, the elves are here because my brother is an elven lord who has been kind enough to offer shelter to Grace while she recovers from this . . . incident."

Well that speech was what most southerners would consider a "sharing violation" – too much information in too little time, and Sookie's eyes nearly popped out of her head. There had been a tribunal earlier tonight? No wonder Eric had missed their date! And these new creatures, these elves were watching over Grace while she recovered? Well that called for a closer inspection, and Sookie started with the elf closest to her – Glorfindel.

The golden warrior was still trying to recover both from Pam's advances and from being referred to as the "nice young elf" by Niall, but he didn't flinch when Sookie passed a surmising stare over him hard enough to make his skin feel funny. Haldir and Nuada got their blatant assessments next, but Sookie didn't say a word. After all the different supernatural creatures that Bon Temps waitress had seen over the past few years, there was no reason to be the least bit surprised by this latest one. Fairies . . . elves. . . from that barstool, they all looked pretty much the same to her, so whatever. Right now, she was concentrating on yet another new revelation anyway. More family to go along with that new cousin – Niall just said "his brother" and knowing that there was only one man in that room yet to be introduced, Sookie dramatically leaned off her barstool and looked around Niall over to Lord Elrond, silently pointing out the obvious. That intimidating looking older man with the crown on his head just MUST be Niall's brother - another most interesting tidbit of information no one ever bothered to share with her!

Niall was too busy watching Eric and Grace to catch on, but Elrond immediately stepped forward, placing a hand over his heart and graciously introducing himself. "I am Lord Elrond, Master of the elven lands of Rivendell. It is my pleasure to meet you, Sookie Stackhouse." He did not give her a chance to reply before politely returning to his position of careful observation. The elf lord was quite pleased to finally meet Sookie after hearing so much about her, but this was not the time or the place for elaborate introductions.

While Sookie was speaking with Elrond, Niall had returned his attention to that couch where Eric Northman was still just contentedly sucking away. It was revolting, but actually seemed to be working. Grace did not look quite so red anymore. Sookie followed his gaze, still waiting for someone to explain why this was happening, and after her wild thoughts boiled through that room for a few minutes, Niall finally did. "Grace has suffered some type of adverse reaction to the injuries she received, Sookie," he told her kindly, "I fear she has fallen quite ill, and Eric was kind enough to offer his . . . assistance tonight. We believe this is the only way to prevent her death."

Sookie looked confused, not understanding why a human would be poisoned by a vampire bite, when Pam piped up from beside them. "Eric didn't say what was wrong, but I'm guessing it's like when you were poisoned by the maenad. Her blood's turned, so we're gonna drink it out of her, so they can put some more in."

Sookie confusion immediately turned horror as she remembered that terrible night. She almost died, and in order to save her life, she got passed around by an entire room full of vampires who took turns draining her. They were not pleasant memories. "Have you taken a turn?" she asked her friend seriously.

"No," Pam answered. "Eric's not sure what's wrong with her, so he wanted to be safe – figured it would be best for the oldest vampires to do this, and that's him and Logan. But you know me, I'm always ready to taste a new body – especially if I get to drain her like . . . that!"

On a typical night, that kind of comment from Pam would have earned her a nice condescending frown from Sookie, but at the moment she was too distracted by Pam's comments to frump over her vampire friend's lack of morals. She was too busy wondering if Eric was somehow endangering himself by feeding on Grace. She remembered when Niall had offered to kill Eric to sever the bond between them, and it was not something she necessarily put past Lord Niall under the right circumstances - and her great-grandfather knew it. In fact, every pointy eared creature in that room did. They were all listening to her thoughts, and Niall sought to reassure her that was not his intention here.

"Sookie, I promise I want nothing more here than for Grace to recover her health," Niall said firmly. "And while I know this is not the time or place, I would beg you not to hold this night against her . . . I pray that some good might still come from her visit to Shreveport, and that you might at least consider meeting her at another time . . . It is going to take some time for her to recover, but perhaps when she is feeling better, I could still introduce the two of you properly?" His tone was gentle, soothing – almost pleading as he spoke – a strange, almost desperate sound that Sookie had never heard from her great-grandfather before. His concern surprised her, as did his words.

"Grace's situation is very similar to yours, and you both have been through a great deal over these past few years. While you lost your parents at a young age and have now lost the grandmother who raised you, Grace never knew her real parents . . . she was adopted by an older couple who have also passed on, and while you do not speak to Jason, she has no siblings . . . I know you both must be lonely alone, and thought perhaps you might enjoy one other's company . . . You have a great deal in common, and I would be most pleased if you would at least consider it."

Niall had spoken in a hushed tone, yet it echoed through the stillness of that huge room, bouncing off the walls and ceiling with nothing more than the sound of Eric feeding to accompany it. Every ear in that room heard every word, and now every eye was shifting from Sookie to Grace, considering the two poor little orphaned human girls. The sympathy was palpable, and it was something that irked Sookie Stackhouse just as much as it did Grace. She bristled, and she was teetering on the verge of that explosion everyone was waiting for, and indeed one did come this time . . . only it was from the other human . . . and no one was prepared for it.

Just as Sookie had somewhat accepted the strange scene taking place on that couch, so had everyone else, trying to carry on as normally as possible while Eric continued to feed on Grace. Logan and Nuada were leaning against the couch listening to Sookie and Niall's conversation, while Haldir had been casually sitting with his hand on her forehead, finding himself relieved to feel the heat as it gradually left her body. Eric had been drawing that poisoned blood from her for a while now, and indeed that fever was going down. As a matter of fact, Grace had now cooled off enough to fight out of the delirium that held her, and if Sookie Stackhouse had been surprised to find Eric's face in Grace's crotch when she walked in, it was nothing compared to how Grace felt about it when those pewter eyes flew open and she looked down.

The term "all hell breaking loose" does not often correlate with the idea of something being caught in a vice grip, yet those two ideas found themselves suddenly intersecting on that couch, and if Sookie's internal mood meter had progressed beyond bitch mode, Grace's sprang itself. Neither the lightheadedness of fever, nor the weakness of blood loss could override the pure adrenaline laced furor of survival that went tearing through that terrified human when she suddenly realized there was a man . . . with his head between her legs . . . and he was BITING ONE OF THEM.

The blood curling screech that came tearing out of Grace was enough to make every ear in that house ring, and Eric Northman didn't know if a rabid animal escaped from the zoo, or if a banshee had been released in his house as a twisted joke. That poor vampire . . . after suffering through back to back nights from hell, he'd actually halfway been enjoying himself. Nice warm human girl, wonderful tanned little leg – damn, she was even wearing cute panties – and whatever had affected her blood didn't bother the taste one bit. It was thick and delicious and wonderful! What more could any vampire in his right mind ask for? He could ask for that human not to wake up and try to kill him, but that's exactly what Grace did – because she was positive he was trying to kill her.

Coming right up off that couch, that petrified human wrapped herself around Eric Northman's head like a squid on steroids, clamping her legs around his neck just as two hands hell bent on destruction buried themselves in that long, silky blond hair. Grace had no idea what was happening here, but she could absolutely promise everyone involved, unless they intended to kill her, it was going to stop. She didn't allow a man to so much as touch her arm without permission and if one intended to put his face in her crotch and caress the camel toe without permission then obviously, they had a death wish . . . and if that man just so happened to be a man vampire . . . well honey, it was on.

Well, Eric most certainly did not have a death wish – he was already dead - but he could not stop either, at least not until Grace turned him loose. His head was now clamped between her legs, and his razor sharp fangs were still buried in that hysterical girl's thigh, so in a valiant attempt not to tear her flesh, he did the only thing he could. Eric grabbed hold of her hips and held on for all he was worth. As expected, Grace just fought back harder, sobbing out terrified screams while wrenching at that beautiful blond hair with the sole intention of trying to tear it all out by the roots.

A mêlée of monumental proportions quickly broke out in that den as everyone moved at once. Grace was screaming, "Get this sick suck fuck off me! Get him off me now!" Yet she was the one who needed to turn loose. Haldir had come lurching out of that couch corner and grabbed Grace around the chest in a failed attempt to subdue her, but the harder he pulled on her, the harder she jerked on Eric's head and pretty soon she had the skin on that vampire's forehead stretched back like an overblown balloon. She had no intentions of turning loose, not even when Logan started coming over the back of that couch to help.

It was a mistake on Logan's part to intervene, even if his intentions were good ones, and his hand had not even made contact with Grace before that vampire had a guardian in his face. Nuada's expression left no doubt what was going to happen if he touched that human, and one chilling emerald eyed glare was enough to make him back off. Too bad, that did not mean Grace would, because Eric and Haldir were now wrestling with that girl for all they were worth - and unbelievably, it was the girl who was winning.

"Daro i! Grace you must calm down . . . Lasto! Stop fighting him," Haldir insisted firmly, praying Grace would calm herself. He was terrified of hurting her as she struggled against him, but she just screamed right back and fought harder. Grace was determined to get off that couch and frantically trying to push Eric's head away, but that vampire had hold of her hips and was still trying desperately to get his fangs out of her before he split her leg wide open. It was two on one, but hysteria tends to outweigh calmness, especially when there is a female involved.

"Get your fucking head out of my crotch, you sick blood sucking asshole!" she snarled at Eric, one fist full of long blond hair, the other pounding him in the top of the head, as she immediately began begging for all she was with tortured pleas to the elf behind her. "Haldir, please get him off me . . . he's trying to kill me again! He's touching me! He's biting my leg!"

"He is not trying to hurt you, Grace – neither of us is!" Haldir insisted, ridiculously attempting to soothe her, even though he and Eric were about to tear her in half. That elf had her in a standard submission hold pulling her back against his chest, while Eric had her by the hips. It was a sick supernatural tug of war, but yank all they wanted, Grace's arms and legs were still free - and she was using them.

Hurling obscenities like there was gonna be a shortage, Grace shrieked and cussed like a drunken sailor all while snatching out strands of Eric's beautiful blond hair and hitting him repeatedly in the head. The harder they pulled on her, the harder she kicked and slapped back at them, and Eric felt like someone had thrown a wet wildcat in his face. Thankfully, Eric finally managed to work his fangs free, but the feeling of teeth leaving flesh pushed Grace right over the edge of insanity, and as Eric gratefully began to pull away Grace caught him right in the face with a bare foot.

Never had any human been more fortunate to be in the care of five hulking elves and fairies than Grace at that particular moment, because Eric spit blood when he finally managed to free himself completely and stand up. That blank face was firmly in place and everyone watched with curiosity as he spit blood before the split in his lip closed right before their eyes. He most certainly was not hurt, and while Eric had indeed drank enough of that human's blood for one night, this was not over yet either. He was old and experienced enough to sympathize with the human's panic, but that little hair pulling, face kicking episode had not helped his attitude any. "You better get control of that girl so we can finish this, or I will," he told Nuada and Haldir firmly.

"That girl" had gone berserk, and while Nuada was standing beside that couch ready to roll with any vampire who got overly anxious, Haldir was now on top of Grace on that couch, having to use his entire body to hold her down while praying she didn't bounce him off the ceiling in a minute. Fortunately for him, Grace was too weak and her blood too foul for her to manage anything more that the tiniest flicker, but boy if she hadn't been, they could all believe this would be unfolding in an entirely different way.

"Get off me! You don't understand," she begged between sobs, pure terror in those deep grey eyes as they locked on Haldir's. "The vampires are trying to kill me! You have to let me go! Take us back to Rivendell . . . I swear to God I won't bother you again, just please don't let him bite me anymore. Help me Haldir, please just help me!"

It was pitiful to listen to, and Nuada found himself deeply disturbed as he looked from Eric back to that couch. Tears were streaming down Grace's face, her neck wound was bleeding again, and she looked like she was on death's door. The red of her skin had subsided, but a strange sickly grey had replaced it, and he knew Eric was right – this had to be finished, and quickly. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?" he asked Eric hurriedly.

"We finish this," Eric answered firmly. "We're going to hold that girl down, and Logan is going to finish draining her . . . and if Haldir or you don't want to do it, that's fine . . . we can handle her."

Nuada's face went a shade paler at the very idea, but he knew if this wasn't seen to completion, Grace would die . . . but it was getting more difficult by the minute. Haldir was still holding Grace down on that couch, but he had turned his head away, praying he could remain steady enough to see this through. Her heart wrenching sobs for help were tearing him apart, and the next sounds that came from Grace were even worse.

Seeing that Haldir was obviously not going to help her, Grace began to cry out to the only other creature she knew might. "Nuada!" she moaned in a torn voice, still trying to free herself from Haldir. "Nuada, please help me! Get him off me and take me away from here . . . you promised . . . you promised no one would hurt me again." She was desperate, her voice torn and raw as she begged for her very life. "Please, somebody help me!"

"My god, ya'll do something for her!" Sookie retched out loudly. Helpless tears were now running down her cheeks, and she knew if something didn't soon change on that couch, she was going to be sobbing right along with her cousin.

Even Nuada found his own normally stoic demeanor dissolving just as Haldir's had. His heart began to race in his chest as he forced himself to remain steady, but he also had to turn his head away, needing not to hear her cries anymore. "Do what you have to, Eric," he reluctantly answered. "We will not interfere." It was one of the most difficult things Nuada had to do in a very long time, but he took a step back, resigned to let the vampires handle this. He was surprised when Eric offered a quick word of support.

"We will do our very best not to hurt her, and don't worry, she should pass out pretty quickly after Logan begins."

Nuada managed a nod, feeling every muscle in his body tense as Eric called out for Logan and Pam to come and help, and then all he could do was watch in complete horror right along with everyone else as they did indeed do what had to be done.

"We have this," Eric told Haldir firmly, putting a hand on the marchwarden's arm and unceremoniously dragging him off Grace. The elf was reluctant to let her go, but using the unnatural speed that vampires were blessed with, Eric had hold of that human the very second Haldir cleared the couch, refusing to acknowledge her renewed pleas of desperation as he nodded to Pam. The female vampire quickly took hold of Grace's flailing legs and the two of them very effectively subdued her. In under a minute, Grace couldn't move an inch, but she could still scream and she did, filling that house with soul bearing pleas for mercy in the hoarse rasp that was left of her voice.

The scene was so impossibly uncomfortable, Sookie had now turned away, draping herself over the kitchen counter to cry, and it was even about to put tears in Glorfindel's steady eyes. "Valar be merciful," the golden warrior murmured softly, finding that request instantly seconded by Lord Elrond. If anyone ever needed mercy, it was most definitely that human girl on the couch.

"The neck, Logan," Eric ordered, ignoring the obvious look of disappointment that came over the other vampire's face. There was no way in hell they could hold that human down in the correct position for a good groin bite, so Logan was going to have to ignore the bruising and do the best he could with the undamaged side of her neck. "Now!"

Leaning down into Grace's face, Logan tried to get a good look at where to bite her, but he was finding it very hard to get past that bruise covered face and those haunting tear filled eyes. "I am only doing this to help you," he told her softly, genuinely wanting to comfort her in some way. Grace started to spit something back at him, but Eric clamped his hand over her mouth before she could. Logan was a genteel soul, and if Grace cussed him enough and kept staring at him like that, he might just walk away. "Forgive me," he said, baring his fangs and preparing to sink them into her neck.

Grace knew it was coming, and she silently prayed to pass out before the vampire actually bit her. She felt as if everything had slowed down to a crawl . . . she could hear her heart beating in her ears, and she could hear herself moaning in fear, although it sounded far away, almost as if the strangled sound was coming from someone else. She was aware that Haldir was standing beside her, leaning over the side of that couch and patting her arm with his hand. She refused to look back at him, and as her brain struggled to find some path of survival through this horror, and her eyes tried to find some place to rest, they finally found Nuada.

While Grace had known Haldir was there and helped to hold her down, this was the first time she had actually seen Nuada, and she was stunned to know that he was allowing vampires to bite her again. Disappointment boiled through her very soul as Grace stared at the man who promised to protect her in stunned disbelief, and as her devastated thoughts bled into his mind, her guardian responded. He could not physically intervene, but Nuada fought back with everything he had to help calm her, reaching out to Grace mentally, doing everything possible to soothe and comfort her through this. Unfortunately, it did not work the way it had in that bedchamber, and Nuada felt the fear tear through her like lightening, shared the burn of her mind as the sheer agony of what she was being subjected to turned her thoughts into torturous flames of burning fire and he was positive he could go insane right along with her.

There was nothing more horrible that any creature could do to her than this, and for the first time in her life, Grace found herself actually wishing she could die . . . and Nuada was absolutely determined to make it stop. Hell bent to help her, Nuada took hold of Grace's mind in one fatal swoop. It was not the gentle caress it had been in Rivendell the night before, it was one violent mind raping show of force as he grabbed hold of her thoughts and dominated them, bending them to his will, shattering reality into a million splinters. It was a brutal thing to do, but it was the relief she desperately needed, and Grace's mind went blank as blood began to seep from her nose.

Thankfully, she did not stay awake long. As Eric promised, her diminished blood level caused Grace to quickly pass out again, and that vampire found himself greatly relieved to feel the limpness when it took hold of her limbs. He eased his grip as he watched Logan finish draining her, and his eyes kept wandering to Sookie. There were lingering tears on her face as her great-grandfather struggled to calm her, and Eric Northman knew he would have hell to pay for this night.

Fortunately for everyone, this night was finally drawing to a close - at least for the vampires. It was not long before Logan finished their task, and everyone watched with relief and disgust when he finally pulled away from Grace's neck and slowly licked the blood from his lips, obviously savoring the taste. Haldir honestly looked like he was going to be sick, but as Eric's pale blue eyes came up to meet his, that marchwarden finally heard the words he was waiting for. "Your turn now."

Haldir was around that couch in an instant, ready to take Eric's place when he moved away, and he was surprised when that vampire caught his arm. "Are you sure you want to do this, or would you rather one of the others?" Haldir gave Eric a confused look, and Eric lowered his voice as he spoke again. "I don't know how it is with your kind," Eric informed him seriously, "but with us, the more blood you share with someone the stronger the bond . . . She just took from you two nights ago, and now you're doing it again . . . I hope you really like this girl, because as much blood as you're giving her, you're going to be bonded for eternity."

Nuada looked at Eric strangely, and so did Haldir. They debated the effects of Haldir's blood on Grace in Rivendell the previous night, but they never stopped to consider that this might also have lasting effects on that elf. Concerned looks got passed to Lord Elrond, but the elven healer had no advise to offer. This was uncharted territory, and they were just going to have to plunge forward and take it as it came. They had agreed before coming here that it was in the best interest of the human not to introduce anything new to her system - and that meant Haldir had to be the blood donor again - but Elrond would respect his decision if he protested.

"I like Grace quite well," Haldir answered firmly, taking a seat on the couch. Pulling Grace into his lap, Haldir gently cradled her there. He would have given anything to see her startling grey eyes and hear her laughter from the night before rather than staring down at that silent dead paleness and blue lips, but this was no time for such thoughts. Snatching his blade out, he cut his palm deeply then using the same method as in the parking lot, he carefully sucked the blood from his hand then closing his mouth onto hers, forcing Grace's lips apart with his tongue to allow the blood to run from his mouth into hers.

It was alarmingly different for Haldir this time, and he soon found himself bewildered by his thoughts. The feel of her lips against his was oddly pleasant, and Haldir found himself thinking of her hand in his hair. Suddenly, he found his mind burning with shocking, erotic thoughts . . . he wanted to forget that blood . . . he wanted to see that gown rolled back up to her waist again . . . he wanted to kiss Grace until she moaned for an entirely different reason. It was pure elven blasphemy, and Haldir fought to push the salacious thoughts away and focus on what he was doing because across that room, everyone else was certainly focused on it.

Lord Niall and Lord Elrond caught a panic tainted glimpse of this entertaining little procedure two nights ago, but they were getting a bird's eye view of it now, and they could only watch in stunned amazement at the creative method that elf was using to get the blood into Grace. Glorfindel and Nuada were stunned, while Logan looked on the verge of taking notes . . . and Eric Northman was just impressed as hell. He was gonna have to remember that for the future!

Pam and Sookie were watching too, and if Haldir worried he was having obscene thoughts, it didn't compare to those two women. Pam's fangs purely ached as she voiced her approval for the gorgeous elf on the couch. "Somebody please drain me so I can be next!" she drawled out, passing a smoldering look over at Glorfindel. Lord knows if that hulking elf was willing to ante up, she'd suck blood off his tongue for days!

Sookie was staring in complete disbelief, stunned to find herself feeling about the same way. She was channeling Grace's feelings at an astonishing rate, and while that girl's mind might have gone blank, Sookie was still able to pick every memory of those perfect rosy lips from her cousin's mind like ripe peaches. "No shit! When I needed blood last time I got handed a bottle of TrueBlood. I'm going to need a cold shower after watching this."

"There are much better ways to find release you know," Eric's sultry voice interrupted, but it certainly did not bring the response he was hoping for.

Every sensual, stimulating thought in that girl's mind froze over like artic ice at the sound of Eric's voice, and Sookie literally flew off that bar stool to climb in his face. "Don't you dare even dream that you get to touch me after the things I have found out this night! You lied to me, and you know as good as I do that you didn't have to bite my cousin's thigh to drink that blood – you scared her half to death just for fun, you sick asshole – and it's gonna be a long time before I forget it! So you can just bite my ass, and watch me walk out that door!" She had her finger shoved under Eric's nose the entire time she was chewing him out, and everyone just watching and listened as she did . . . then they watched her do exactly what she promised, even watching the picture that fell off the wall shatter after she slammed the door behind her so hard.

The loud noises prompted Haldir into action, and he rose, gathering Grace into his arms as he did. He exchanged quick glances with the others, and after a curt nod to Eric, disappeared. Glorfindel, Elrond and Niall did the same, disappearing as quickly and quietly as they had appeared.

Nuada remained, and a hard look from Eric sent Pam and Logan scurrying, leaving the two men alone. They presented quite a sight standing side by side, two lean tall and imposing blond warriors, and thankfully, they were of the same mindset – the most important thing to either of them was those two human girls. "Allow me to extend my thanks for your assistance in helping Erulissë tonight. I am in your debt."

"Consider us even," Eric replied. "A vampire tried to take her life, a vampire returned her life. An even trade – there is no debt."

Nuada looked pleased and somewhat surprised as he ran another close look over Eric. He did not know why but he liked this creature – and the feeling was mutual. "When things settle, I will return . . .we have much to discuss regarding the girls and their safety, but for now I must return and assist with Erulissë. Haldir has a difficult time handling her at times, and she will no doubt be in a very unpleasant mood once she wakes."

Eric chucked slightly, then actually burst out laughing. "Well, if she's anything like Sookie, you're in for one hell of a fight, so I'd be sure to watch out for that little foot of hers when she does!"

Nuada shook his head and chuckled slightly himself, knowing he and Haldir would be facing much more than a foot when Grace woke up. "I fear that your involvement with this tonight has brought Sookie's displeasure your way . . . I hope that things between you can be repaired."

Eric smiled broadly. "Oh, don't worry about me and Sook . . . making up is what makes fighting fun!"

Frowning, Nuada looked at him uncertainly, not understanding. "You would fight with a woman simply to apologize for it at a later time?"

"No," Eric answered smugly. "But if Sookie's pissed and wants me to kiss her ass, you better believe I'm gonna head right over there and get started!"

Now it was Nuada chuckling outright as he politely nodded his respects to Eric and faded away, but those chuckles instantly faded when Nuada rematerialized in the bedchamber of Imladris. Haldir was packing cold wet rags on Grace's face, trying to wake her, calling to her firmly, demanding she wake. "Nuada help me," he insisted impatiently, "clear her mind, force her to hear me!"

Nuada immediately did as asked, the two working her together. Nuada cleared that fog he intentionally put over her thoughts screaming commands directly into her mind while Haldir called to her loudly, repeating her name over and over. "Grace! Wake up, Grace! You must wake!"

They were both relieved when she finally opened her eyes, only to see them and freeze, obviously wondering where she was. "Worry not Erulissë," Nuada told her soothingly, "you are safe now." His eyes pleaded with hers to hear his words, and he continued to both prod and soothe her with his mind, finding her filled with confusion, her brain clouded from lack of blood. "Drink!" he insisted loudly, as Haldir pressed his palm to her mouth.

Grace's mind was too muddled to understand what was happening but she eventually did as they commanded her, drawing the blood from Haldir's hand in a complete daze. He offered it to her willingly, gently cradling her head with his other hand as she slowly swallowed the life sustaining crimson drops. It took time, but finally she pushed his hand away, sinking into the sweet oblivion of blackness. Haldir sat there for a moment, quietly wrapping one of the pieces of linen around his hand to stop the flow of blood, then drug himself to his feet. This had been a terrible night, and he would be most relieved when it ended.

Nuada wholeheartedly agreed, and neither man was encouraged when Elrond's voice came cutting through the room. The elf lord had been on the balcony with Niall and Glorfindel trying to soothe poor Gandalf since their return, the wizard frantic for information as to Grace's condition. "Come mellyn nín, let us speak," he called softly.

The evening had been stressful for all of them, and even after Nuada and Haldir somewhat reluctantly came onto the balcony, it did not seem that anyone wanted to speak. It was Niall who finally broke the silence. "Haldir of Lórien, you have given Grace the gift of life for a second time," he said slowly, his beautiful voice dancing on the night's air. "You have done what I could not, and I am in your debt." Haldir raised his deep blue eyes to the sea green ones watching him, surprised by the kind words, nodding his appreciation to the Fairy Lord.

"I know you may not warm to my next words Haldir," Elrond added, "but I would ask you to remain here with Grace for a time. You are an accomplished healer and the child has accepted you." He paused, carefully choosing his words, not wanting to anger the marchwarden, wishing him to desire to stay instead of being forced to. "The Pinilyaer is rare and special, and my brother and I are entrusting you with her health and healing. Galadriel has been so kind as to loan your services to my house for a time, and if you are acceptable to it, you shall not return to your duties as General of the Guard until her health is restored."

Haldir instinctively gave Lord Elrond a strong look, but quickly squashed it, nodding his respect to both Lords instead. "I would be honored to care for Grace during her time here. She will receive my very best care, and I shall see that she remains content and heals properly," he answered firmly, obviously pleasing everyone with his response. Secretly, Haldir was quite satisfied as well. He wanted to stay in Rivendell with Grace - he felt drawn to her, overwhelmed by his need to protect the fragile human, and he was not the only one who felt that way.

"Very good then, the matter is settled," Elrond said, "and there is yet another important matter to discuss this night as well . . . Niall and I are also in agreement that Nuada will permanently assume the position of Grace's guardian. He will be entrusted with her safety both here, and once she is returned to the earth realm. I believe that you and Niall have already spoken, but is that acceptable to you, Nuada?"

"It is," the guardian answered. "Like Haldir, it will be my honor to care for Erulissë. On my life, she will remain safe for the remainder of her days."

"Excellent!" Niall said, relief obvious in his voice. He was mentally exhausted and very ready for this night to end, as was everyone else.

"I concur - excellent," Elrond added. "Now, as everyone knows, Glorfindel is my chief guard here at Rivendell. Should either of you require anything during the time you are here, simply speak with him. Everyone involved in this situation is accomplished in their own right, but there is no reason we cannot all work together for a common good – the recovery and safe return of Grace to her home is the most important thing - agreed?"

"Agreed!" Everyone answered.

"Now then, Glorfindel, please escort Haldir back to his chambers," Elrond said firmly, hushing Haldir's protests with a wave of his hand. "You are not the only healer here, mellon nín, and you have lost much blood to the Pinilyaer these past days. You are pale and weak, and you need time to rest, eat and recover your own strength. Do not return to this place before tomorrow morning – understood?"

Haldir reluctantly nodded, but as he began to walk away with Glorfindel, Gandalf stopped them. "Listen to me closely my dear friend," he cautioned. "The child has taken of your blood twice now. She is human, yet touched by the fey, and elf blood – your blood – flows through her veins. A bond has been forged between you, and it shall remain with you always. Never forget that she is both fragile and powerful. You must be very diligent in your care of her, for she will be of a very delicate mind for some time after the events of this night." Haldir said nothing, he simply frowned and nodded his respects before leaving with Glorfindel.

Nuada turned to do the same, but the old wizard stopped him as well. Gandalf was secretly concerned for both men. The human girl obviously possessed great power, and he feared that she would wield it with a frightening ferocity – yet she had no control as of yet – it would bode well for both Haldir and Nuada to remain in her good graces! "I extend the same warnings to you, mellon nín," Gandalf said firmly. "The Pinilyaer is both fragile and powerful, so prepare yourself, for when the little one wakes I fear she will be of the most unpleasant demeanor. I see hint of ominous things to come in the palantír and I bade you be wary. I know not what the next days will bring, but I fear all will not be well in this place."

Nuada frowned slightly, but said nothing, only nodding his respects before slipping into Grace's room. He paused to consider the sleeping human on the bed, then silently assumed a position in the corner of the room, content to watch the rise and fall of Grace's chest as she drew gentle breaths. He did not know what threat lay on the horizon, but if any creature intended harm toward the girl he had come to know as Erulissë, he could assure everyone it would find death by his hand.


	7. Remorseful Repercussions

Chapter 7 – Remorseful Repercussions

It was just past midnight when the knock sounded on Sookie's door, cold knuckles against wood, not a command to open, but a gentle request to enter.

Padding across the kitchen linoleum in bare feet and pajamas, the pretty blonde knew who was on the other side of the door, and that fact did not make Sookie Stackhouse happy. There was no excuse for the way Eric Northman had treated her these past two days, and her brain boiled with betrayal and disappointment as she stood there staring at that white wood slab . . .

 _Eric had actually lied to her for the very first time . . . hid the fact that she had a cousin from her . . . a cousin that was attacked in the parking lot of Fangtasia – his bar . . . and her own great-grandfather was there, and neither one of them thought enough of her to even tell her Grace existed . . . not one word from either of them . . . and then, to have to agonize through watching that poor girl suffer on that couch tonight . . . and there had even been a tribunal! Well, Niall Brigant and Eric Northman could both just bite her ass. Period._

Fighting back and new batch of tears, Sookie turned away from the door and headed back into the kitchen. Damn that vampire, and damn that fairy lord! Damn those elves, and damn her tormented mind for being able to read that girl's thoughts and know what Grace was going through tonight! She'd be lucky if she slept again in the next two weeks!

"Hmmp! Assholes," she growled under her breath, turning around and heading back to the kitchen table. The lifeless jerk could stand out there and knock and pound on that door all night because she was not opening it . . . and she did not have to!

Shaking his head in acceptance, Eric turned away from the door, walking off the porch and circling around the house. As usual, Sookie had the upstairs windows partway open, and as usual when she was pissed off and refused to open the door, he was gonna have to just fly his sorry ass up there and crawl through the damn thing! "I swear . . . the shit I take off this girl . . . if I didn't love her . . . " He was mumbling as he pulled off his shoes, tossing them toward the Corvette where it sat gleaming under the yard light. Eric was tempted to just go ahead and strip off all his clothes and just go streaking downstairs butt ass naked – see how she liked _that_ for an apology – but knowing how unpredictable Sookie Stackhouse was, the girl might cold-cock him with a frying pan, so nope, not the best course of action. Better stick with the normal groveling, human ass kissing routine he'd perfected over these past few years . . . oh, and the bushes around the house were blooming . . . how convenient!

Eric snagged a few white blooms off the nearest shrub then slowly flew up to the window, his eyes narrowing at the flakes of old paint that managed to get all over his new black dress pants as he slid his tall self through that window. The paint always got on him, and it always reminded him that he needed to get someone over here to paint this house for her . . . but he wasn't going to do that . . . he was going to wait, because he didn't intend for Sookie to keep living in this old farmhouse for much longer. He intended for her to be living with him.

He brushed off as much of the paint flecks as possible before gliding silently down the stairs. Eric knew Sookie would be sitting at the kitchen table, no doubt with a cup of coffee and a magazine she was pretending to read - and when he took the last step down and peered around the corner, she was – and she had been crying, even more than at his house earlier. Eric didn't like to see Sookie cry, and he offered her his sweetest apologetic smile when she looked up.

Sookie wasn't the least bit surprised to see Eric standing there. She'd been waiting for the last ten minutes, and now, as expected, Eric Northman was standing there in all his vampire lord glory, and that magnificent creature could've been a poster boy for the supernaturally stunning. Immaculate black dress pants clung in all the right places – even with tiny specks of white paint on them - gentle creases from the ride over just hinting at what they contained, that silky black button up shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a little alabaster flesh, tempting . . . teasing. He'd changed clothes before coming over, and while Eric was perfectly adept at taking Sookie's breath away on any given day, that vampire was trying extra hard right now . . . and it showed. There were wild flowers from her shrub bush outside in his hand, a seductive smile on his lips and every pore of his being simply oozed sexual aura. It was more than Sookie's frayed nerves could manage, the very sight of him shoving her heart through her throat in under a second.

"Hello Lover," he said quietly, crossing the room to brush his fingers against her cheek, cool blue eyes studying her intently. Those eyes burned with a hidden fire, transfixed by this captivating human that held his heart. Sookie was like a glass of champagne, sparkling and bubbly with perky boobs. He wanted to hear her scream his name . . . and he desperately wanted her to understand that the things she'd seen tonight were completely out of his control . . . and to know how very sorry he was for hurting her.

Tantalizing fingers slowly traced their way down her neck to gently caress the length of her collarbone as Eric leaned head down, soft blonde hair gently tickling her flesh as he brushed the faintest lingering kiss against her forehead, easing his face to rest against hers. "I'm sorry Sook . . . Niall was out of his mind after what happened to Grace . . . he threatened trouble if I said anything before he got the chance to talk to you himself . . . I wasn't trying to intentionally hide anything from you, I swear it."

"What did he do . . . threaten to kill you again? It's not like it's the first time, and I bet it won't be the last!" Sookie snapped.

Eric clenched his jaw, biting back the sarcastic comments he wanted to reply with, settling for something acceptably soothing instead. "Niall had every right to be upset . . . She was attacked at Fangtasia, and he blames me . . . and yes, he did threaten me, but I don't know that he really meant it," Eric answered softly. "Although he was more creative this time . . . he actually said he'd cut my tongue out, and I know how much you'd hate that."

To prove his point, Eric lowered that arrogant head of his a little farther, capturing her ear in cool lips while the tongue in question teased the perimeter before delving deep inside. Sookie shuddered before he turned that ear loose, and Eric knew she would accept his apology before this night was over . . . and she would enjoy it, too. He swallowed a smug smile as he pulled Sookie from the chair, gathering her into his arms to kiss her breathless, the flowers thrown to the floor forgotten.

Eric Northman was a man on a mission tonight, and while Sookie had no idea, he intended to use seduction and sex as his weapons of choice, determined to get that girl to accept his apology. No way, no how was the appearance of some irritating little half-breed cousin gonna screw up his plans with that blond woman in his arms – and Niall Brigant could kiss each perfect pale globe of his ass if he didn't like those plans once they were revealed too – cause last time Eric Northman checked, he didn't owe that pointy eared irritant a damn thing!

Cradling her against his chest, Eric did everything Sookie liked and much, much more, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to the bedroom. Kicking the door back with his foot, he laid her on the bed, covered her body with his before her mind ever had a chance to catch up to his actions. Cool fingers instantly began plaguing her flesh as he slowly languished over removing her clothes, using firm and feathery strokes to painstakingly remove each piece. Sookie was only wearing a t-shirt and sleep shorts, and it didn't take long to have that warm, tantalizing body bared before him.

Eric was more than ready to move on with this little exercise of extortion, and slipped to his knees in front of her, oblivious to her moans of protest or those obnoxiously expensive pants he was wearing. That vampire knew perfectly well what he was doing - he'd done this before, although it had been some time - and he didn't give her time to think or resist, maintaining complete control at all times. Suddenly a demanding hand was at the small of her back, an impatient mouth immediately filling itself with the rounded mound of bare breast her chest presented. Extended fangs gently grazed a hardened nipple as an experienced tongue licked and soothed, tasting her blood. That second hand joined in, carefully kneading its companion . . . gently pinching and pulling . . . a torturous combination of hand and mouth tempting her . . . teasing her . . . tasting her.

"Eric Northman, I am still mad at you!" Sookie gasped, unable to resist pressing herself into his hands. That silky blonde hair tickled her flesh every time he shifted position, and soon her hands were buried in it as she gripped his head, pressing those cool lips and pleasure bringing fangs even closer.

The gasps continued, being joined by subtle moans and Eric knew he was winning this fight. She would forgive him for tonight, and she'd do it one groan at a time, if that's what she wanted . . . he was certainly willing. "I am truly sorry for deceiving you, Sookie," he whispered softly, interspersing his words with gentle nips and tingling rolls of his fingers. "The past two evenings have been extremely difficult for me . . . but I dreamed of you all day . . . hours in the darkness just thinking of every pleasure I could bring to you . . . please tell me that you understand."

As Eric was speaking, firm hands were diligently going about their work, massaging twin mounds of firm flesh as his head traveled down her body, his tongue dipping into her navel, fangs grazing tiny bloody trails against the sensitive flesh of a flat stomach as he waited for her to concede.

Every touch of tooth to flesh threw tremors of pleasure through her very soul, and Sookie struggled to catch her breath, a muddled mind hearing his words, fighting to respond. "We've been together too long for you to treat me this way, Eric. Even if Niall did threaten you, it doesn't excuse what you did . . . that girl is my cousin . . . I deserved to know." Sookie was fighting to resist Eric, determined not to give in, but her resolution was quickly fading, and her voice shook with need by the time she finished talking. She had a grip on his head now that wasn't altogether different than the one Grace did earlier – only Sookie didn't want Eric to move away – she desperately wanting him to move a little farther south with that tongue. She would gladly let him bury that gorgeous head in her crotch, and if he wanted to feed from her thigh, he was more than welcome to.

"You wanted to be the one on that couch," Eric said arrogantly, pure pride seeping through every word. "You might be mad, but you're more jealous that anything else."

Sookie struggled to answer, her voice panting and uneven. "I am not! That tonight was awful . . . it was one of the worst things I've ever seen . . . and you bit Grace on the leg just to be an ass . . . Eric, what are you doing? Are you even listening to me?"

What Eric was doing was preparing to satisfy every lustful idea tearing around that girl's mind. He'd slipped off the edge of the bed, fully prepared to call into action every single inch of that long, lean muscular Viking body in order to get the forgiveness he was after this night. It had taken him less than a minute to have his clothes off, a perfect chiseled body of porcelain flesh suddenly pinning her to the mattress as he hovered over her, firm satiny flesh grazing her thigh, his mouth so close to hers she could feel his fangs brushing against her now quivering lips.

"I heard every word," Eric assured her, shifting his hips, blatantly seating himself against her. A slight smile caught the corners of Eric's mouth when he heard her breath catch, his pale blue eyes glittering with a strange combination of conceited pleasure and genuine adoration as he considered the gorgeous body laid out under him. He loved Sookie, and he never, ever wanted her to lose sight of that fact. "And you're right . . . I did bite Grace there to prove a point, because I wanted Niall to watch . . . the stupid creature deserved it for luring that damn girl into my territory and not telling me about it! I do everything I can to get along with that fairy because of you, but there are rules to this shit Sookie, and he broke all of them!"

"That damn girl is my cousin, Eric . . . and Niall just wanted her to come here to meet me, and it's not like you and him are good friends or anything! He's not gonna tell you everything," she snapped in a harsh whisper, although it was hard to put any heat behind her words. Her heart was threatening to explode with every beat, and her body trembled at the sensations Eric was dragging out of her with purposeful nudge of his hips.

"Never forget who I am, Sookie," he warned seriously. "I own this fucking town, and it's my job to keep things under control . . . if Niall would've told me that girl was coming to Shreveport, I could have protected her, the same way I protect you. As it is, she nearly died, and two vampires are dead . . . and vampires dying over humans never, ever makes me happy, no matter how stupid they were acting."

Sookie immediately froze beneath him, her eyes chilling over at his words. "You've killed another vampire over me before Eric . . . you trying to tell me something? Or am I just another part of this town that you think you own?"

Fangs glistened against the obsidian night, razor sharp edges so adept at killing now softer than butterfly wings as they grazed the delicate arch of her neck, interspersing Eric's next words with gentle blood drawing nips and provocative administrations from his tongue. "Sookie . . . I love you, and I would kill a hundred vampires to keep you by my side . . . but that doesn't mean I would do the same for everyone else . . . now obviously, your cousin isn't everyone else . . . but being forced to call impromptu tribunals to satisfy your pissed off great-grandfather, doesn't exactly make me happy . . . and neither does having a wet girl dripping on my couch."

"Eric . . . that feels so good . . ." Sookie groaned, straining up against him, her very insides screaming with unsatisfied hunger.

"Do you like that?" he whispered seductively. "Enough to realize how sorry I am for what happened tonight?" Eric felt Sookie straining under him, begging him with her body to take her, to relieve her from the all consuming desire that had hold of her.

"I love it . . . same as I love you . . . but that still doesn't make what you did right," she answered quietly, her voice torn with emotion. Her body was nearly ravenous in its need, and Sookie had already decided it was high time for some payback. Pleasant misery resided down a two way street, and she could manipulate his obviously horny ass just as well as he could her! Running her hands down the gentle recess of his spine, they landed directly on that perfect carved ass he was so very proud of, and she raked her fingernails down it just for spite, feeling him tense automatically when she did.

Those closed eyes and tense muscles told Sookie he was trying to ignore her, but she knew he was finding it nearly impossible. Sliding herself down his body, Sookie did some exploring with her own mouth, kissing Eric Northman in places he thoroughly enjoyed being kissed, caressing that magnificent gift to woman with her tongue, stroking the length of him with her hands, reminding him just how much pleasure he was missing out on himself. Sookie refused to give Eric any more pleasure than he gave her, instantly stopping the second she felt him begin to twitch, sliding right back up on those pillows to stare at him defiantly.

"Not only will you be apologizing to me for the next six months for this crap, you might want to strongly consider telling me that you'll gladly do anything to protect my cousin that you would for me," Sookie murmured as she gently bit a nipple. "Just a suggestion."

Laying beside her, Eric quickly realized Sookie was just as capable of pushing his sexual buttons as he was hers, but he intended to win this little game of remorseful demands. Suddenly, he was on top of her, burying his fangs in her neck just as he buried himself inside her, possessing her again in one swift motion. Sookie moaned his name, but Eric froze, refusing to move another muscle, torturing her even further.

Feeling him still inside her, Sookie grabbed hold of his face with both hands. "Love me Eric," she begged him, "make love to me . . . please." Her voice was desperate, and it took everything in him to resist her.

One little pull of blood from her flesh was enough to make Sookie tingle all over, but once again Eric stopped before she shattered, running his tongue over the punctures to heal them. "Not until you tell me you understand why I lied to you," he repeated softly, his voice tense as he ran his nose up the side of her face, his fangs rubbing against her skin, reminding her of those pleasure bringing nips he was so effective at delivering. "I don't want anything to come between us . . . especially nothing having to do with Niall."

"Niall's will never come between us . . . and my great-grandfather means well, even if he is a little weird in the way he goes about things sometimes," she groaned, gasping when he withdrew from her, grabbing him with her hands, tearing at him with her fingernails as she tried to pull him back against her. She left small bloody trails up his back when she did, pure blood bond driven lust consuming her as she begged him to finish this.

Eric smiled down softly at her. "Well I'm glad to hear that, my dearest lover . . . and I'll never argue that he's weird." His very voice teased her as he spoke, the sensual sound of it ringing in her ear, and when he leaned that head down and nipped the closest hard rosy nipple with his fangs, she nearly came off that bed. Wallowing in the control he held over her, he suppressed the slightest chuckle, then repeated his demands yet again, trying to hide the growing frustration he was feeling. "Now tell me you're not mad at me anymore," he taunted, "and we'll get on with the making up part of this that we both like so much."

"I'd be lying because I'm still mad at you," Sookie snapped, wrapping her legs around his waist to shove her hips up against him, forcing him deep into the core of her body as she did. "And my great-grandfather, is not weird . . . he's eccentric . . . and kinda cool."

Every muscle in Eric's body tensed against her, the feeling of being enveloped by that warm wet human flesh nearly too much even for a vampire of his age and experience to resist. "That fairy wouldn't know cool if it walked up and bit him in the ass," Eric murmured into her ear, "and cool it what I do best . . . so stop being mad at me. You know I'd never let anyone related to you get hurt."

"I'll give in and say you're cool, but that's it . . . I'm still mad," Sookie giggled in return, taking full advantage of those long legs still wrapped around that narrow vampire waist. Leveraging herself against the mattress, she ground her hips against him, impatient hands coming down to grab two handfuls of firm vampire ass in the exact way that drove Eric Northman insane. That vampire knew Sookie loved his ass more than anything else in the world, and he couldn't stand it when she dug her fingernails into his cool pale flesh like that. Now it was his hips involuntarily bucking against her, and Sookie smiled in satisfaction.

On the verge of exploding, Eric stopped her, catching her face in his hands, looking ever so deeply into her eyes. "Sookie . . . be mad if makes you feel better, but tell me you know how much I love you . . . tell me you believe that much." His voice was serious, and Sookie could see the glint in his eyes. Eric Northman meant what he said, and he couldn't be more sincere in his feelings for her.

"Yes, Eric . . . I know how much you love me, and I love you too . . . I'm just worried about Grace, that's all," Sookie finally admitted, willing to confess anything if it would end this relentless agony.

Eric smiled down at her gently, cool blue eyes on fire with need, his pupils mere slits. "She'll be fine, I'm positive of it." Without warning, he brought his mouth down sharply, sinking his fangs into her neck while simultaneously thrusting himself to the hilt in her soft, warm flesh. Sookie's body shattered instantly, shaking uncontrollably as he both drank from her flesh and worked it with his own, forcing her over the precipice of pleasure again and again.

He satisfied her so completely, the entire universe ceased to exist outside of the one magnificent being holding her in his arms, and Sookie was not even fully aware when he finally released her, spooning with her in the darkness. She didn't know how long they had lain there before Eric took his wrist to his mouth, piercing the flesh with his razor sharp fangs and easing it to her lips. "Show me you still love me," he demanded quietly.

Sookie blinked hard, glad Eric was behind her. His blood provided the bond between them, and he demanded she take from him regularly – both to deepen that bond, and to repeatedly restake his claim to her. She knew it enhanced her looks, even increased her physical attributes in other ways – made her reflexes quicker, sharpened her hearing – but it was downright cruel to ask her to do this tonight . . . after everything she'd been through.

It was also classic Eric Northman, and he would not accept a refusal lightly. "Sookie?" Eric prompted, his voice gentle, but with an underlying tone of insistence.

Taking a deep breath, she relented, drawing his wrist into her mouth, and taking from him. The vampire's blood was strangely cool, oddly sweet and completely satisfying as Sookie tasted it. She'd taken so much blood from Eric, she didn't suffer the same hallucinogenic effects from it that most other humans did, but it still always brought her a sick pleasure she couldn't quite articulate – or even accept. Sharing blood with another creature was a guilty, sinful pleasure that pulled from some dark part way down in her soul . . . it was primeval, feral and animalistic . . . and she loved it.

Eric stayed with her until far into the morning hours, contentedly stroking her back as Sookie drifted off to sleep. Although he tried to be quiet, she woke when Eric got up to leave, instantly missing his presence beside her. "Thanks for the flowers," she murmured, her voice low and husky from sleep.

"You are most welcome my lover," he told her softly, placing a parting kiss on her forehead. "If you hear anything from Niall about Grace, I expect to know." The vampire was gone before his words faded, silently slipping from the house and roaring into the night at the wheel of that Corvette.

Now alone in that big white farmhouse, Sookie Stackhouse huddled under a faded cotton quilt, unable to fall asleep after the sound of Eric's car faded. Her mind had yet to completely comprehend the wild images she'd absorbed from her cousin on that couch, and her heart had yet to accept that she wasn't the only human great-grandchild of Niall Brigant . . . did that make her any less special to the fairy? Did Grace have any powers like she did? Was her new cousin going to live, or had this entire horrible situation tonight been nothing more than another horribly cruel episode to bring her pain that she could add to everything else she'd endured over these past few years since she began dealing with the supes . . .

Sookie never did fall asleep. Not one moment did her eyes close or her mind find peace. While she knew beyond doubt that the vampire who brought her true physical pleasure during the wee hours of the morning honestly did love her, emotionally she was still devastated. Eric had lied to her – as had Lord Niall - and it was only natural to now wonder what else may have been a lie as well. That torturous thought kept tears lingering in her eyes even as they watched the sun come up, and they still glistened when the soft knock came at her door later that morning. Eric had spent the night apologizing, and now it seemed that the other half of the "liar" equation had showed up to offer his excuses.

Her eyes narrowed as they went to the door. Sookie knew who was on the other side of that thick wood slab before she ever moved. The mental connection she shared with her great-grandfather was a strong one, and even standing in her kitchen with the entire front of her house separating them, she could clearly sense how upset he remained from the night before. She was positive this was not going to be pleasant.

Begrudgingly, she dragged herself from her chair, smacking down her coffee cup harder than was necessary before impolitely snatching the door open. Her facial expression and swollen red cheeks left little doubt the mood she was in, but the fallen face and clouded eyes of Lord Niall did not either. That fairy was devastated, his concern for her hurt feelings palpable, and Sookie could not help but find herself feeling sympathetic toward him.

"Come in," she said flatly, turning on her heel and heading back for the kitchen table where she had been absently flipping through a magazine. Not one image from a single page had she absorbed. Her mind was still too filled with the incomprehensible scene she had witnessed the night before, and she struggled to accept it all.

Niall followed Sookie inside, closing the door politely behind him. He automatically pulled out the chair for Sookie to sit, then gracefully folded himself into the one closest to it. His eyes were gentle when he spoke, as was his voice. "How are you, child?"

"I'm fine," Sookie lied.

"You are most assuredly not fine, nor are any of us after that terrible scene we bore witness to last night. Please . . . if you would allow me to explain," he pleaded.

"Explain?" she snapped. "How can you begin to explain this crap? You hid my cousin from me – never even told me she existed in fact – then you manage to let her get attacked in the parking lot of Eric's bar, _while I was inside,_ yet nobody bothered to tell me, even though I could feel what was happening to her! And then last night, I find Eric draining this girl on his couch when he's supposed to be on a date with me, while you watched!"

With every word, Sookie grew madder, her face flushing, her voice raising. Niall wondered if she was going to stand up and start throwing things in a minute. "Calm down, please," he told her softly. "You are entirely correct. This has been a fiasco from the first moment, and it is my fault completely. As I told you last night, I wished very much for the two of you to meet one another – to hopefully begin some type of relationship – and I fear now I have ruined that before it has even had the chance to begin."

His voice nearly broke as he finished, and Sookie felt her heart softening. Lord Niall was at times a misguided soul, but he always meant well and would never do anything to harm her. She knew that for a fact. "Why would you force Eric to lie to me? You know how I feel about him. He said you threatened to kill him if he told me the truth the night she got attacked. If you didn't want me to hear it from him, why didn't you just walk inside and tell me right then?"

Niall's face creased into an even deeper frown as he studied Sookie. He could not bear to see the tears in her eyes, or the dark circles under them. Never did he want to see one of his descendants in pain of any kind – physical, mental, or otherwise. This had to be fixed. Clasping her hand in his, Niall looked at Sookie intently, reaching out to her with his mind. It was so much easier to communicate with someone mentally than verbally – Sookie would actually be able to feel his emotions, instead of trying to put them with his words.

The first images he offered her were surprising pictures of Sookie sitting on the porch of that very farmhouse with her Gran, sharing lemonade one afternoon after she had finished cutting the grass. He followed it with many more, hundreds, thousands of different images of time he spent watching her, enjoying her mere presence when she was not even aware. It stunned Sookie, and her shocked expression told him so.

Niall then began to change those images, replacing them with similar ones, only of a different human girl . . . a young woman called Grace. He had not known of her nearly as long, nor had he made himself known to her the way he had to Sookie, but he cared for her just the same – and that deep love for one of his bloodline became glaring real when Niall went a step farther.

Squeezing her hand in his, the fairy first began to offer Sookie little snips of information, little hints he had dropped to entice Grace to come to Louisiana - and he openly shared his personal desires as to why – he had planned to reveal himself to Grace, and he had wanted nothing more than for the two of them to meet after he did. His face fell and his eyes glistened when he then went on to share the same exact information with Sookie that he shared with Grace, showing her everything that transpired in that back parking lot, revealing to Sookie the horrible physical damage Grace had sustained. The tears were flowing freely by the time he was finished, and Sookie began to understand. Niall did not hide the attack from her in an effort to hurt her – he did it to protect her. "You are a delicate creature," he said almost in a whisper, "I did not want you to share her suffering any more than I knew you would . . . and I certainly did not want you to see her die."

Sookie's eyes flew open. "Is she?" she blurted out anxiously. "Is Grace going to die?"

Clenching his teeth in obvious distress, Niall's eyes fell to study the tablecloth for a moment. "I certainly hope not. We believe she will recover now, but she has not yet woke from last night, and I do not know how she will feel or react when she does. As upset as I am - as upset as you are – just from what we saw, I cannot imagine what her reaction will be to living through it." Niall's own eyes were now glistening with tears, and Sookie squeezed his hand to offer support.

"Would it help if I was there?" she asked.

Niall's eyes flew up to meet hers, shocked that Sookie would offer such a thing. "You would actually be willing to meet her now? After everything that has happened? I just assumed . . ."

Sookie looked at him with a firm expression, thinly veiled contempt seeping in to override her compassion for a moment. "Unless I missed something, nothing that's happened to my cousin was her fault, so why would I blame her for any of this? If she's related to me, of course I want to meet her . . . and that is what you wanted isn't it . . . for me to meet her? Or did you just bring Grace to Louisiana and let her nearly get killed for nothing?"

Niall frowned, but there were very few suitable rebuttals to that. It was indeed his fault Grace came to Louisiana, and that made him ultimately responsible for her attack. He had a lot to make amends for! "While well intentioned, I fear I should have listened to my brother . . . I should not have brought Grace to Shreveport under clouded circumstances. The proper thing would have been to simply tell her who I was, then ask her to join me here and introduce the two of you properly. I can only hope you will both find it in your hearts to forgive my grievous error."

"I don't think anyone can be blamed for wanting their family to be together," Sookie answered gently, knowing first hand how much she hated being alone. Losing her grandmother had nearly killed her, and the added torment her brother had caused her over the years was beyond words. It was something that ate at her, but having him out of her life now was simply the best thing, although there were times she missed him desperately. Lord Niall had filled a huge void in her life when he appeared, and she was honestly encouraged by the idea that she had more family she was not aware of. Perhaps she was not so alone in this world after all.

Smiling at her kind words and open thoughts, Niall felt a tremendous sense of relief. He knew how much Sookie hated being alone, and he was positive Grace did too. It was one of the main reasons he wanted them to meet. Perhaps they could both provide something to the other that was missing. "I have not spoken to Grace of you either," he admitted, "so you have a distinct advantage over her. While you have known of me for several years now, she has known of me for less than a day . . . and in combination with everything else being thrust at her, I can only imagine what her emotional state will be like when she wakes . . . May I suggest this instead? Take a few days to accept these things; calm yourself and settle things with Eric. That will give me the opportunity to see that Grace is indeed over the worst of this attack, and to let her begin adjusting to these things as well. Once she is a bit stronger and hopefully more settled - and you have done away with those tears - I will fetch you . . . while I cannot bring you to Nárthea or show you the Isles of the Blessed, I can take you to Elrond's home. I believe you will find the elven realm and Rivendell to be quite . . . interesting."

Sookie became wide eyed just at the names themselves. Niall had never once offered even the smallest glimpse of what his world was like. He had never called it by any name, had never before last night even admitted to having a brother . . . and she had burned with curiosity. Even her fairy godmother, Claudine, refused to acknowledge even the most subtle inquiry, and while Sookie was still upset with everything that had happened, she also found this to be the opportunity of a lifetime. Not only was she going to get to meet her new cousin, she was finally going to get to see where her great-grandfather went when he popped himself into thin air.

Brushing at her eyes with the back of her hands, Sookie smiled brightly at Niall. "I'd really like that," she said honestly, "and I hope Grace isn't too upset when she wakes up . . . but I'll tell you . . . after the way that girl went after Eric last night, I can't imagine what she's gonna say to ya'll."

Niall smiled brightly in return, but internally he grimaced. He could certainly image what Grace was going to say . . . and do . . . and he prayed that Haldir and Nuada would be able to contain the girl. Grace would be in a very volatile emotional state to be certain, and they had yet to figure out what giving her the blood of an immortal had done to her. He silently prayed they would all survive the fallout when she woke up.

***************************************

The mid-day sun shown warm against clear skies, glinting off a head of glowing silver hair when Haldir came easing across the terrace. From his vantage point on the balcony, Nuada could see that the marchwarden looked well rested and much less tense than he did the night before, although his drawn expression clearly showed his concern for the human girl laying in that bedchamber.

He seemed to grow more nervous with every step that brought him closer, although his voice was steady as ever when he spoke. "Goheno nin, please forgive the lateness of the hour," Haldir offered sincerely. "I fear last night's events took more from me than I realized."

"Ce maer? And are you feeling well now?" Nuada replied politely.

"Mae, yes I am . . . and how is the Pinilyaer? Has she woke?" Haldir asked.

Nuada shook his head – no.

"Are we sure the blood took this time? Is she . . . how does she look?"

"She looks well," Nuada answered flatly. "Her skin is no longer that peculiar grey tone and she is cool – proper condition for a human. It is simply a matter of Erulissë waking so we can see if the high fever caused any damage . . . and to see what demeanor she wakes in . . . and what damage will come along with that."

Both men passed involuntarily looks through the arched opening toward the bed where the small form of a girl was nestled deep in a pile of pillows. Neither man could imagine what Grace's frame of mind would be once she woke, and it was with the utmost reluctance that Nuada left her in Haldir's care to answer the beckoning wave he was receiving from Niall. The Fairy Lord had come straight from Sookie's to speak with Elrond, and he was most anxious to get the status of his other great-grandchild. Unfortunately, before Nuada could give the two Lords that status update - and prior to Haldir even settling himself into the carved wood chair beside the bed - that great-grandchild woke up and she was as unhappy as everyone imagined she would be.

It had taken nearly fifteen hours for Grace's body to recover from the night's traumas, to absorb the immortal blood of the elf who had now twice saved her life, and for her tormented mind to rejuvenate after hours of Nuada's gentle, repairing caresses. The guardian did not regret taking hold of her mind, but he worried over the harshness of his actions, and the blood that had seeped from her nose during it had only emphasized that point . . . blood that reappeared, the last tiny drops sliding onto her lips when Grace busted free from the arms of exhaustion and physical pain and jerked upright in that bed.

Sheer panic tore through Grace's very soul as she began fighting against the covers and pillows around her, her hands automatically going to both her crotch and her neck, protectively covering the places where she had been bitten. The first tears came as she sat there gasping for air, trying desperately to remember what had happened the night before. Her brain was on fire, every single neuron making its presence known by sending needle points of pain through her mind. She was positive her head would explode as she looked around, finding no comfort in the bright light pouring through the windows. The sun told her no vampires could be here, but no amount of daylight could erase the images of those two huge blond fanged creatures burned into her memories . . . nor could it erase the fact that Nuada and Haldir let them feed on her.

Trembling with nausea, Grace fought back a wave of dizziness, but both were quickly forgotten as pure fury overtook her. Within seconds, her skin was shimmering with that strange blue ethereal glow it had on the balcony, every pillow went flying from the bed, and her eyes began to flood with a deathly black vengeance.

Haldir's butt hadn't even touched the chair when he realized she was awake, but he had enough common sense to remain where he stood. "Grace?" he called to her gently. "Pinilyaer, how are you feeling? Saes, please calm down and speak to me . . . you are quite safe, I assure you."

"Safe?" Grace hissed as she slid off the bed, jerking her gown up to run burning eyes over the ugly bruised fang marks in her groin. "Do you see this shit? That bite is there because of YOU! You held me down and let not one, but two fucking vampires bite me!" she screamed. "After you had the god damned nerve to tell me I could trust you!"

As she spoke, Grace was easing ever closer to the marchwarden, waves of seething anger rolling off her strong enough for Haldir to feel them pressing against him. Tears were streaming down her face, and her broken voice bled evil as she spat them at him. "I begged you to help me . . . but you held me down . . . you held me down and fed me to a vampire! What kind of sick SOB are you? I hate you, and I hope you rot in hell!!" Grace threw the words at him, so incensed that the very air shook with her last words.

Haldir did not shy away, but he was silently hoping Nuada could hear Grace's raised voice as he tried to reason with her. "Grace . . . I did hold you down, but I was only doing what was necessary to help you little one . . . you were burning with fever, and it was the only way to cool you. I would never intentionally do anything to harm you. Think back . . . remember . . . I gave you my very own blood last night to save you, and I do not regret it. I was glad to save you, now saes, please do not repay my kindness by acting this way."

"Acting what way," Grace hissed. "Like this?" Her voice was still tracing against Haldir's ears when the bedside table along with the beautiful vase and flowers suddenly flew across the room, smashing to bits only inches away from where he stood. He frowned desperately, but she didn't budge, more than ready to do it again.

Thankfully, the impact was loud enough to get the attention of the group sitting in the courtyard – including Nuada – and he went tearing back to that bedchamber, clearing the steps in one jump. He slid to a stop just inside the doorway, shocked to see that Grace had Haldir somewhat cornered in the far side of the room. Her appearance was that of a pure rage consumed fey, from the flames on her skin to the color of her eyes, and Nuada knew if he couldn't get his hands on her to calm her down, they were both in a world of trouble.

"Erulissë . . . look at me," Nuada said softly, trying to reach out to her with his mind, but finding nothing comprehensible there. Her every thought had been reduced to nothing but boiling darkness, and he struggled to find a path clear, quickly realizing it was going to take more time than he had at that particular moment to clear her mind . . . especially when Grace took hold of the pitcher of water sitting on the corner desk and sent it flying straight at Haldir's face. The marchwarden managed to jump out of the way, but just barely, and it was becoming very clear that she didn't intend to give up anytime soon.

Coal black eyes danced with blue flickers when Grace swung them round to face Nuada, her expression just daring him to try and touch her. "Fuck you, Nauda," she growled under her breath. "You're worse than him."

The pure chill in those cold black eyes told the mercenary to get away unless he wanted a heaping dose of the same, but Nuada intended to do no such thing. He had been entrusted to look over this human, and that was a job the guardian took very seriously – and if part of that job included "handling" her, well, then he'd do that too. "Erulissë," he said soothingly, "last night was very unpleasant for all of us, but it was a necessary evil and it saved your life, now please calm yourself and let us speak to you. It is over, and I swear to you, no other vampire will every touch you again."

"How dare you say that to me . . . after you stood there and watched," Grace sobbed, her voice breaking under the strain of emotion and also cracking from all the yelling she'd done the night before. "You told me to take your hand . . . to trust you . . . and I did!"

"You can trust me, "Erulissë, I swear it on the very air I breathe," Nuada assured her softly, easing farther into the room.

"Ya'll are insane . . .either you've lost your mind, or I've lost mine . . . one or the other," she mumbled, almost to herself. She was shaking violently, and both Nuada and Haldir could clearly see that the emotional strain of the past few days had caught up with Grace completely. She was on the verge of completely breaking down, and they could not blame her . . . any creature would, particularly after that scene last night.

"Grace, just get back in the bed and lay down. You need to rest . . . allow yourself to recover from these things you have endured. All will be well, and you will be returned home soon," Haldir told her, beginning to edge closer. He intended to grab her, and hoped he could do it without startling her too badly – it wasn't going to happen.

"Take me home now," Grace demanded loudly, seizing on the word. "I want to go home! Take me HOME!"

"You are not well enough yet, Lirimaer," Nuada said in a coaxing tone, "but as soon as you are, I will take you there personally. Now saes, please . . . get back in the bed."

"That is correct, Grace," Haldir added soothingly. "If you rest, you will heal . . . and you will be able to go home that much sooner."

"NO!" Grace screeched, "No . . . No! No! No! No! No!" She was growing more hysterical by the second, and Nuada and Haldir both knew they had to take control of her and stop this from escalating. They were ever so casually nudging their way in her direction, but the closer they came, the more hostile she got. "Don't either one of you dream that you're gonna touch me," she snarled out viciously, but neither of those men intended to listen.

Nuada was hell bent he was going to put Grace back in that bed, while Haldir felt as if his entire body had gone up in flames. He could not begin to articulate the strange sensations washing over him, but from the instant he came into that room, the elf felt completely out of sorts. He was awash with wildly lurid thoughts, and they had threatened to burn out of control from the instant Grace lifted that gown and showed him her thigh. Those blue flames could have just as easily been flowing over his flesh, and without even thinking, he dived across that room after her.

Just as she had on the balcony, Grace simply let instinct take over, letting the recently ignited fey power in her flesh do as it wished, and it wished to stop that man from touching her again. With no more than a shift of her eyes, Grace threw Haldir across that room like a toy, sending him right through the front of a huge carved wood armoire. The beautiful doors buckled under his weight, shattering into fiercely biting splinters that tore at him as he went unceremoniously crashing through them.

He let out a terrible groan, the sound of which snapped Grace right out of her furor. Terrified that she might have hurt the elven healer, a hand clamped over her bruised and swollen mouth in horror and she went tearing for the door but Nuada was in her way. The guardian made his own determined grab for her, but just as his fingers closed around a handful of that gown, she took hold of him. He could not steal her flames unless his skin touched hers, and that finely woven fabric offered him nothing by way of protection.

Delicate white linen tore and Grace nearly fell as she flung Nuada away from her, sending him catapulting over the bed to land face down on the floor, smacking his head on the hardwood in the process. "I will never trust you again," she hissed, bolting out the door.

Gandalf's feet had just touched the top terrace step when Grace came onto the balcony, and the wizard froze at the sight of her, instantly knowing this little human girl was everything he had feared and more. Her appearance was both frightened and frightful, but the warning glance he received from her left little doubt that no good would come from trying to stop her. He didn't even make a sound as she quickly headed around the structure toward the right, nearly running toward the gardens where she had gone the night before. Torn between following her and checking on Haldir and Nuada, Gandalf decided the best course of action was to leave her be, and he prayed she had not seriously injured either of the men. Thankfully, he found them both perfectly alive.

Haldir was just dragging himself out of the shattered shell of furniture, and he passed the wizard a look of complete disbelief as he took in the splintered furniture, crushed flowers and broken water pitchen. The things Grace said to him had hurt him to his very soul, shaking him to his core, and he found himself almost unable to comprehend what just happened.

Gandalf took in the shocked expression, and the marchwarden's torn clothing carefully. He seemed stunned, but intact. "Mellon nín, are you alright?"

Haldir gave him a devastated look. "I am . . . fine," he managed to declare in a broken voice.

"What the hell happened before I got in here?" Nuada demanded, wondering what had caused such a violent reaction from the girl he was now sworn to protect. He had just finished dragging himself to his feet, surprised his nose wasn't broken after the fierce way she'd bounced his face off that floor.

His request was met by only a frown from Haldir. "She woke up! What do you think happened?" he spat out viciously, already striding toward the door, but Gandalf immediately blocked his path. "Move my wizard friend, I must go after her!" his tense voice commanded.

"No! You must not!" Gandalf told him forcefully, taking him firmly by the arm. "There is nothing in this place that can harm the Pinilyaer, but the more the two of you pressure her to comply, the more upset and violent she will become. If you go to her, she will surely kill you this day!" The powerful white wizard was much more familiar with the fey than Haldir, and when one started flaming like that, you better get out of the way unless you wanted to get hurt - badly.

Haldir looked at him desperately. He wondering if that were true, but the fire in his veins and the determination in his soul refused to be swayed . "Grace is wounded, and she is my responsibility! I fear not death, certainly not by her hands. Now, let me be!" He jerked loose from Gandalf's grip, but Nuada was in his face before he took two steps.

"I will retrieve her, then you can tend her wounds. You are a stalwart warrior, mellon nín, but you know nothing of such a creature as she has become. Allow me to do my duty, then you may see to yours."

Nuada exited the room before Haldir could even reply, but as he went tearing down the far south steps leading to the gardens, he found Niall instantly traced into his path. "Let Grace be, Nuada," Niall said gently, but firmly.

"I have to get to her – calm her!" he growled out roughly, peering past the fairy lord to spot Grace at the farthest edges of the gardens, quickly heading toward the wide path that led to the wading pools.

"You will both leave her be!" Elrond ordered loudly from behind him. The elf lord was now standing at the top of those stairs with Haldir at his side. The marchwarden was glaring at him with an impatient frown, just as unwilling to let Grace go as that guardian was, both men distressed at the thought of her condition. "She will calm with time," he assured them gently, "and then you may go speak with her. Until then, you will stay away. There is absolutely nothing in the whole of Rivendell that can calm her, save the two of you stirring her anger. Now compose yourselves . . . go find something to placate your mind for a time, and when afternoon yields itself to dusk, you may retrieve her - but not before. Understood?"

Yes, everyone understood perfectly, but the challenge would be to see how each of them could pass the afternoon until the time came for them to try this yet again – and it would be easy for none of them. Nuada was the first to react, stepping right into Niall's face to seethe out his opinion. "If anything happens to Erulissë during this little interlude, I will not be held responsible," he growled out, then instantly disappeared.

The orders set no better with Haldir, but he remembered being thrown down on the balcony and the smashed table. He didn't want to get tossed off the cliffs hanging above those wading pools, and he had no choice but to heed Elrond's commands, so taking a deep breath, he silently fumed and flipped around on his heel, forcing himself to walk in the opposite direction.

By the time Haldir made it into the depths of Imladris and the bedchamber he was using, the elf was worked into a state of near madness. Devastated by the things Grace said to him, he kept hearing them in her broken voice, circling his mind as he pictured her eyes from the night before, pleading for him to help her. Hate was such an evil word in any language, and he truly hoped she did not mean what she said – and that she could recognize that he had only sought to help her. He prayed she was indeed just of a fragile mental condition, and would soon regain her senses and calm herself.

Desperate to occupy himself, he first tried settling onto the bed, but closing his eyes only made the images more vivid, and he was well rested from the night before. Disgusted, he paced for a while, then carefully rebraided his hair and brushed it until it gleamed. He had no idea why he suddenly cared how he looked when he saw the girl again, but he did, and only after he was well satisfied with his appearance did exit the room and head for the library. Perhaps time spent with a good book could ease his thoughts, and help pass the afternoon until he could go to her.

Soon, Haldir was making his way through the huge carved doors that allowed entrance to the enormous literary keep of Imladris. Elrond was a prolific collector of books, and Haldir hoped to find one to persuade his thoughts away from the angry human who spit such venom at him earlier. As always, he found himself oddly comforted by the strange smell woven from leather bindings and old parchment yellowed by time. Slowly he walked between the great walls of books and manuscripts, absently touching one here and there, wishing he could find one he cared to read. There was no such book, and he finally found himself in the farthest corner, isolated from everything, and dropped his head to his hands.

 _How in Valar had he let himself get drawn into such a position? Trapped in Rivendell, tormented by a human!_ Human. The very word made his blood run cold. A human – a lowly mortal woman was tormenting his thoughts and Haldir could hardly believe it. Not only was she descended from the fey, she was now a human with his blood flowing through her veins - elf blood! Was not this strange mixing of elf and human an abomination?

As he stood there, leaning in the corner, a commanding voice suddenly cut through his thoughts. "Am I an abomination then as well?" It was Elrond's powerfully deep voice, and Haldir's head flew up to verify his presence, only to be immediately dropped as he bowed to the Elf Lord.

"Forgive me!" he said softly, desperately hoping the Elven Master of Rivendell would have mercy on him.

"Dearest Haldir," Elrond said quietly, "rise and let us speak, mellon nín."

Haldir slowly lifted his head, comforted by the soft expression in Elrond's eyes. The powerful elf placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and led him down the corridor toward the Hall of Fire. Once there, they seated themselves on some of the comfortable leather chairs. Between meal times, the Hall was quiet, offering the perfect place to sit and think, and also for this most important conversation.

"So you find the Pinilyaer's composition distasteful?" Elrond asked gently, concerned for the sensitive marchwarden and his obvious distress at the situation he had been placed in. "Please speak freely with me Haldir. I mean you no harm, and my question is posed from a friend to a friend." His eyes were intent as he considered the talented General, yet his expression was not threatening. He sincerely wanted to comfort him.

Haldir contemplated the question carefully. This was one of only a handful of times he had spoken with Lord Elrond, Rivendell not being his home. He had always been told that while he was a powerful ruler, he was also most kind, and a great healer himself. He hoped those words were true.

"I do not know what I feel for the human," Haldir answered uncertainly. "Grace is most . . . unusual, and I am having a great deal of difficulty accepting that I am now a part of her. I feel very strange in her presence." He frowned desperately with that statement, knowing his words were true.

"Then the vampire's words from last night are true. The blood you have shared is affecting you somehow. Do you feel unusually drawn to her? Are you experiencing feelings that are not typical for yourself?" Elrond asked, his voice still kind, his expression understanding. He had seen the unusually lustful glint in Haldir's eyes last night when he was giving Grace blood on that couch, and he knew something was amiss between the human and the warden – he simply wanted to know how serious the problem was.

Haldir's face flushed deep crimson in embarrassment. "The Pinilyaer is . . . different, MiLord."

Haldir never intended to openly admit to being attracted to a human, no matter how freely he might be able to speak, but his thoughts were quite clear to the powerful elf ruler anyway - and at that very moment Haldir was silently reconsidering that nicely tanned thigh Grace had hiked up her gown and flaunted to him. The action had shaken his naïve elven morals to the very foundation, and Elrond could not help but chuckle softly. The human girl was quite full of surprises, that he most certainly could not deny!

"There is no shame in finding a human's appearance pleasing, although it is most unusual," Elrond told Haldir firmly. "And do not forget, Grace is not entirely human. Fairy essence not only runs strong in her, but it is also quite appealing to our kind . . . it can draw elf to fey just as a moth is drawn to the flame. Some are more susceptible than others, but I fear you, mellon nín, are at an unfair disadvantage. Obviously, the blood you have shared is serving as an added stimulant, so I would honestly be more surprised if you did not desire her than if you did."

Haldir fought to hide his shock at Elrond's confession, and he struggled to keep his deep blue eyes locked on the floor as Elrond continued to offer him kind words, seeking to soothe his discomfort. "Fear not Haldir - Grace will bring you no harm. There was much to this that I did not know when I involved you, and for that, I do apologize. Yet what is past, cannot be undone. Both my brother and I are deeply thankful for your sacrifices in saving the life of the Pinilyaer, and you may rest easy knowing that should you . . . stray somewhat from your beliefs before she leaves this place, none shall stand in judgment of you." Elrond rose to leave with those final words, and after a reassuring squeeze to Haldir's shoulder, he disappeared down the corridor once more.

Left in the silence, Haldir struggled to compose himself, wondering if what the elf lord told him was true. Was he only drawn to this strange human because of her fey heritage? Were the strange sexual sensations he was experiencing only because of the blood they had shared? Would these feelings disappear once she was gone?

***************************************

In the human realm, Nuada was fighting to compose himself as well, the guardian also struggling to make sense of this odd situation he suddenly found himself entangled in. He refused to allow himself to contemplate where Grace might be, or what she might be doing, so instead, he changed clothing and honed in on the human girl that was the other living descendant of Lord Niall.

It was now early afternoon, and Sookie was at work, bustling from table to table serving drinks and obnoxiously deep fried food to the various patrons of Merlotte's Bar and Grill when Nuada slipped to take a stool at the bar. The mercenary was quite capable of blending into human environments, but his presence in the tiny community of Bon Temps was unlikely to go unnoticed – and it wasn't. The owner, Sam - a rare, full blood shape shifter - immediately recognized Nuada as a supernatural being of some type, but he could not place his unfamiliar scent. His long golden hair hid his ears, giving no hint to his race, but Sam knew instantly Nuada was both non-human and someone to be reckoned with. He eased to a convenient corner and watched him closely, wondering what had brought him there that day.

Rushing to the end of the bar, Sookie reached for the three beers and cast a quick glance around, immediately seeing Nuada and recognizing him from Eric's. Giving him a quick glance and half-hearted smile, she took the beer to the half drunk men at the far table, then returned to the bar giving Sam a quick glance. "Give me a minute, ok?" Passing Nuada a look that told him to follow her, he headed for the back door with him quickly falling into step behind her, but the moment the door closed, she turned on him instantly. "Why are you here? How's Grace? Has she woke up yet?"

Her hands were on her hips just as they had been the night before, and Nuada was surprised at both her directness and her rudeness, noting that it must run in the family since Grace certainly shared it as well! He frowned at the young blonde waitress. "I am here simply to learn more of you, to help myself understand this situation I have found myself suddenly involved in," he answered noncommittally, carefully judging her reaction.

Nuada had already absorbed a wealth of information about Sookie, just during the few minutes he'd been in the bar, and he found all of it very interesting indeed. The owner Sam was in love with her, but she obviously did not return his affections as she was involved with Eric. The red haired waitress did not like her, something to do with a church and the fact that she shared sexual relations with vampires, and the black girl behind the bar was her friend, willing to do nearly anything for her. The patrons themselves were extremely cautious of her, and wondered if she was some type of witch, or if she was insane because she could hear their thoughts.

The disdain many of them felt for Sookie intrigued and concerned him, and Nuada stared at her intently, suddenly beginning to realize why Lord Niall felt the need to protect these two human girls he was related to. "I apologize if I have disturbed you," he told her politely. "I was merely curious to see if you had settled from the unfortunate events of this past evening."

Sookie stared up at Nuada, completely unafraid and positive he was lying. "I've settled just fine, and I'm sure you already knew that since Lord Niall was at my house earlier this morning. Now, you didn't tell me how Grace is, and I'm waiting," she demanded sarcastically.

Nuada's pale blond eyebrows raised . . . seemed sarcasm and hostility ran in the family as well. "Erulissë is recovering slowly," he answered vaguely, refusing to add more details of her cousin's condition.

"Well so long as she's recovering, I'm happy," Sookie answered with obvious relief. "Now, I have to get back to work before Sam gets upset, and I'd appreciate it if you want to talk to me again, you don't do it here. It draws too much attention, and I don't like that." She gave him a firm, warning look, then quickly disappeared back inside, leaving Nuada alone in the parking lot.

The guardian took a quick look around, then traced himself to his LA penthouse, already realizing if Grace was anything like Sookie, both he and Haldir were going to have their hands very full. It was a thought that continued to plague him as he allowed himself an hours comfort in familiar surroundings. It had been centuries since he spent so many hours in the elf realm, and while that had been his world long ago, this was his world now, and he found himself missing it. An extremely long shower, simple food and a change of clothing refreshed him, then Nuada traced himself back to the Shreveport area, yet again.

This time, he materialized in the parking lot of the huge glass office building Elrond and Niall used as their base of all middle and southern US business dealings. As the one involved in this situation most familiar with human ways, Elrond and Niall had asked a number of things from Nuada, and throughout the night as he had stood watch over Grace, he had been sending silent mental commands to the fairy guardians he commanded – and he was now here to personally verify that they had fulfilled each and every one of them.

The parking lot of this office building was where the fairy guardians had taken Grace's truck for safekeeping, and Nuada slowly began working his way around it, genuinely confused that a young woman would want to possess something so large and obnoxious. The entire truck was black - from the paint to the rims and grill, to the windows - and the words "Southern Comfort" were emblazoned across the top of the windshield in bold print. He did not know what to make of the phrase, nor could he imagine such a small female behind the wheel of such a thing. _It does not suit her,_ he thought to himself with a frown.

Effortlessly conjuring the Cadillac keys from her purse hidden under the back seat, he opened the door and slipped inside, finding his senses immediately assaulted by the strangest delicate floral scents mixed with the oddly tropical smell of tangerines. It was the entirely unique scent of Grace herself, and he found it both peculiar and intoxicating. He focused to ignore it as he began carefully checking over the contents of the truck, and reading over the papers left for him on the passenger seat. As expected, Grace had been checked out of her hotel, her possessions had been carefully collected and repacked into her two suitcases, and those suitcases were now sitting in the back seat of that truck - along with her purse and every other thing the girl brought with her to Louisiana.

Things seemed in order, so Nuada slowly began to survey her things, meticulously going through her purse, her glove box and console, and then her suitcases. Delicately boned fingers left no marks as they ran repeatedly over her things, absently touching items here and there – her sunglasses, various music CD's, a cell phone. The black bathing suit in the suitcase brought strange memories of the first time he ever saw her to the surface once again, and Nuada fought against the strange connection he had begun to feel to this girl. He did not get emotionally involved with any "mark" or creature he contracted to guard. It was a job – nothing more – yet he already knew that this was not any typical human woman he was guarding over, nor was this going to be any typical guardian job. He was already quite intrigued by Grace, and as he glanced at the clock, he found himself quite relieved to know that the time had almost arrived to go searching for her in Rivendell.

The thought both pleased and concerned him, and with no more than the blink of his eyes, Nuada returned to the terrace of Imladris, curious to know how everyone else had passed their time. He was desperate to know if Grace had indeed settled, and he was praying that he was not about to get himself bounced off the floor again.


	8. Falling

Chapter 8 – Falling

Now sitting in a quiet clearing at the top of a small cliff in Rivendell, Grace was struggling to pass the time the best way she could. While Nuada had busied himself with necessary guardian tasks, Haldir had sought relief in the library and received counsel from Elrond, Glorfindel and Niall had spent their time walking along the riverbanks contemplating magical spells before returning to the courtyard table. Every supernatural creature had found a way to soothe themselves, however, the human girl at the very heart of this strange situation had received no support or kindness from anyone – and it showed – both in the dark thunderstorm grey of her eyes and the subtle blue flickers that randomly traced over her skin from time to time.

After tearing through the rose gardens, Grace had wandered aimlessly down a myriad of smooth dirt paths, the shock of everything overwhelming her. Somehow, her muddled mind managed to recognize the same path she'd traversed the night before, and feeling completely overwhelmed, she'd made her way to a large boulder, clinging to its massive form as she threw up violently, desperate for some way to stop the mental and physical pain that consumed her. When there was nothing left, she managed to regain her feet and walked on. Surrounded by various paths and thick woods, Grace wondered if she went into the trees if she could hide from the elves. She'd stood there in the edge of a thick stand of shrubs debated it for what seemed like an eternity, but the fear of being killed by some strange animal finally won over, and she refused.

More mindless walking brought her to the wading pools, where she plopped down on a partially hidden carved stone bench. She was overcome with emotions, dizziness and nausea, and her mind boiled with frustration. _How in hell could she be trapped in this strange elf world? And speaking of elves . . . she'd been betrayed by the only people she thought she could trust – they helped the vampires . . . freaking vampires had actually drank her blood – twice! Drank blood?_ Turned that over in her mind, Grace suddenly had another horrifying thought. She drank the elf's blood – not once but twice. _Oh my God,_ she thought to herself, folding over the bench to throw up yet again. The force of her vomiting tore loose the fragile repairs her body had begun making to her neck, and her neck and shoulder began to seep blood, tiny rivers tracing down her neck as she collapsed in a heap, wondering if she simply died, would this hell she was trapped in finally go away.

Several hours passed before Grace picked herself up, and as she noted the shadows beginning to form around her, she realized she must have either fallen asleep or passed out. Thankfully, the rest had helped, and as she stood up, she found her mind clearer and her body stronger. Her very soul was resolute now, and Grace found herself absolutely determined to find a way out of the situation she was in. There was nothing in those woods that could possibly be worse than being held down by pointy eared men and fed to a damn fangy toothed vampire, so without hesitation, she chose the most desolate path she could find, and started walking.

Heading up seemed a logical choice, because if she could get farther up this mountain, she could see where the hell she was – and hopefully find somewhere else to go – so slowly and painfully, she made her way through the woods, working her way through them as quickly and quietly as she could. The very idea of traipsing through some strange forest was terrifying. Grace had no idea where she was, who these strange elf people really were, or how to get back to her world . . . and she didn't know what else might live here either . . . so every few steps she would stop to listen, wanting to be sure she was not being followed.

It was tedious and mentally straining, but Grace kept at it. The evening was warm, and that long gown was driving her crazy, so out of irritation and a deep need to tear up something, she stopped and ripped the entire bottom half of it off. It actually caused to her to almost smile as she remembered how Nuada had torn it when she'd flung him across that bed. Sorry bastard – deserved what he got – and she found herself almost hoping he did break something when he landed on the other side. Both Nuada and Haldir deserved to have their asses kicked for what they helped do to her last night!

Silently simmering, Grace trudged on for what seemed like forever, and when she finally broke free of the trees, she was exhausted but encouraged. This was another clearing, but when she took a good look around, that encouragement quickly dissipated. She'd found the source of that waterfall – she had secured herself some of the most breathtaking views of mountains she'd ever seen in her life – but that was the complete extent of what she'd accomplished. Outside of one gorgeous twinkling river that went plunging over the side of that cliff, an unconscionable array of the most beautiful flowers she'd ever seen, and one small clearing of velvety green grass, she hadn't found a damn thing, and it was horribly disappointing.

Fighting back tears, she crossed the open grassy area, stopping at the edge to peer down what must have been a good 50' drop to the pool below – and she realized that she could actually see the bench she'd been sitting on earlier! Hell, she'd walked forever through those woods, but she hadn't really gone anywhere! Slipping from her feet, she sank to the ground as the gravity of her situation came pouring over her like an ocean wave, crushing her, drowning her in its dark depths.

As tears began to silently fall into her lap, Grace realized they were not the only thing trickling from her skin. Slowly reaching to her neck, she could feel the wetness of bandages covering the horrible wounds, the very thought making bile climb into her throat. She could literally hear the sound of that vampire's breath in her face when he attacked her, could clearly remember the feeling of that blond creature's hair in her hands last night as she'd fought him off. It made her nauseous, and her hands shook as they ripped the bandages away, throwing them over the cliff, wanting any and everything related to that horror as far away from her as possible.

When she was done, her hands were tainted by nasty streaks of blood and she wiped them on that gown, determined to scrub them clean. It made a terrible mess, but Grace didn't care one bit. The gown was already covered with dirt and strange green stains from the underbrush she'd walked through along the paths, and she found herself thrilled in some sick way that she'd managed to tear it up so thoroughly. She hated the damn gown – it made her feel like she was in an institution anyway – and just who the hell were these people to make her wear such a stupid thing anyway? Taking hold of the torn hem of it, she started tearing off little pieces while she stared over the edge of the cliff, slowly mulling over the fact that she was obviously trapped here. It was a most unpalatable realization, and it only served to firm her resolve that much more. Never before had Laurel Grace ever felt totally helpless until now, but she was still hell bent and determined she would find some way out of this place . . . and she didn't care who or what it took to get there.

***************************************

The same shadows that were creeping into that cliff top clearing, were also beginning to shade the surfaces of Imladris, and as Haldir stood looking out of one of the library's enormous stained glass windows, the warden could tell a considerable amount of time had passed and evening was at last approaching. He knew it was now time to go find Grace, so with a strange mix of relief and trepidation, he made his way toward the southern end of the structure and the courtyard of Elrond.

Ducking into the elaborately detailed gazebo that housed the courtyard table, he found the others assembled there, having a private supper. Niall, Elrond, Gandalf and Nuada were all seated around the huge oval, feasting on what appeared to be an unbelievably exotic array of food and drink. The table was loaded with various bowls and plates covered with the garden's latest bounty of fruits and vegetables, hearth toasted breads, and several different types of roasted bird and venison – and Haldir was urged to join them, an elven servant immediately setting him a place and sliding a cup of wine in front of him.

It was every bit as elaborate as any celebratory feast Haldir had ever attended, and while he rarely got the opportunity to enjoy such foods, he had little appetite, picking at the fine offerings more than he ate them. He was not used to dining with royalty, and although the thought made him uncomfortable, he was too preoccupied to care. The others intentionally spoke of nothing particular but the very moment the last dish had been cleared, Haldir looked to Elrond. "Have we heard anything of the Pinilyaer? Is Grace still down the paths?"

Elrond looked at the handsome elf and saw the concern etched in his face. He hoped their earlier conversation had done the warden some good, and helped to relieve some of his concerns. "Yes, mellon nín, the Pinilyaer is somewhere up the paths beyond the wading pools. I have had a few scouts keep watch, and they have seen no sign of her return, so I am positive she is still there. I am also fairly certainly she will have calmed herself by now, so you should be able to speak with her safely now."

Haldir quickly got up and nodded his respects to the others, not the least bit surprised when Nuada rose as well. They said nothing, but together the odd pair began making their way through the gardens and down the paths that led toward the wading pools. Both men were revisiting what had taken place earlier that day, and both desperately wanted to talk to Grace, to explain why they had been forced to do what they did – and they both prayed to the Valar she could find some way to forgive them.

Soon enough, they arrived at the wading pool, knowing from the faint marks her bare feet left in the dirt exactly where she had walked, and also from the signs around the stone bench that she had been ill. They began to worry that in Elrond's desire to leave her be and let her calm herself, that the girl may have fallen ill again . . . throwing up certainly could do nothing to help her condition, and the tiny smudge of blood Haldir noticed on the bench was enough to throw chills down his spine. "She is bleeding again, and she has been vomiting . . . I fear she may have wandered off and perhaps passed out in the woods somewhere! It was a terrible mistake to let the Pinilyaer alone!"

"There is blood?" Nuada asked, startled at the revelation and deeply afraid of what might have happened.

Haldir turned a tortured face to him. "Only a smear . . . but she was still bandaged . . . it would have seeped through. It is not a good sign."

Immediately, Haldir was on his knees studying the ground for her tracks, although the falling light was somewhat of a hindrance. Nuada was scouting about as well, and he quickly realized from the obvious trail of limp bushs leading away from that clearing, that finding Grace would actually be quite easy. "This way!" he called, already tearing up the hill, following the withered grass and limbs through the woods at a desperate pace. Haldir followed on his heels, knowing how upset Grace had been earlier, and wondering if she was capable of harming herself.

Busting through the underbrush at the edge of that cliff top, Nuada instantly froze, actually causing Haldir to smack into the back of him. Grace was there alright, and she was sitting so close to the edge of that cliff, one puff of breeze and she would be over. The mist from the waterfall was dancing around her, throwing small rainbows into the air that were competing with the tiny blue flickers that traced against her skin. The moisture hung heavy in the air, leaving her raven hair in tiny damp ringlets, and mingling with the blood seeping from her neck, dragging it down the side of her gown to now show deathly crimson in the falling light.

Strange little pieces of something white were scattered about, showing up in stark contrast to the limp circle of mossy green grass and baby ferns that surrounded her, while an entire collection of bird and butterflies seemed to be hovering nearby, creating a parade of color as they rested on the nearby boulders and bushes. One particularly large brilliant cobalt blue butterfly was actually perched on the toes of her foot, and Grace seemed to be studying it intently, the entire scene presented one of the most peculiar sights either of the men had ever seen. It seemed as if nature herself seemed to be enjoying the sylph descendant's presence, yet when they reached out to her mind, they were instantly swallowed by the desperation that held her.

Grace had somehow managed to find solace in these peaceful surroundings, but the terror of what had happened still threatened to overwhelm her fragile human mind. She was fighting to hanging on to her sanity, but she was winning by a mere thread, vicious memories and ideas of vampires and betrayal constantly biting at the edges of her mind, fighting to regain control and crawl back to the forefront. It was a fight that without help, both men were positive she would eventually lose, and they wondered with the position of her body coupled with the strange powers she possessed, if either of them could reach her in time.

***************************************

Unfortunately before either man moved, Grace found herself falling . . . the warm air was rushing up to meet her at a frightening speed, flowing past her nose so fast she couldn't even take it in. There was not time to think, only time to react and her mind scrambled to slow her body before it slammed into the gigantic bush that swallowed her.

She didn't jump off the cliff. She was thrown off, and it was very intentional. Sitting there, she'd just begun to rise when the hand clamped on the back of her neck. Her scream cut through the stillness as the pain ripped through her, the cruel fingers digging into her tortured flesh where the vampire had ravaged her. She didn't know what was happening, but when the evil voice raked across her ears, she knew she was done for.

"You should not live!" the villainous voice growled, and Grace felt her heart freeze in her chest as she fought back tears. She was already furious, incensed at the idea of being trapped here, and she'd gotten up with the sole purpose of hunting down Nuada and Haldir and choking the life out of them if that's what it took to leave this place. Fortunately for her, they'd come to her and they were already in the clearing when Dermot materialized.

"Get behind me now!" Nuada ordered Haldir, instantly knowing he was the only one who could save her. Haldir didn't budge, and Nuada quickly shoved him aside, torn between protecting the marchwarden the elves held so dear, and the girl Niall had demanded he keep safe.

"You think you would claim her from me?" Dermot's low rasp taunted. "Do you believe you have become so strong?"

Nuada glowered at the powerful fairy half-breed. Niall did not lie when he told Grace some of the fae were nasty. His son Dermot could have been the poster child for them. "You will bring no harm to Erulissë." Nuada told him in a low, determined voice. "And I shall most certainly claim her, if you do not release her willingly to me!"

Dermot laughed, the most evil sounding laugh Haldir had ever heard, and he wondered how to overpower the strange creature in front of him. If Grace looked frightening when she was angry, she paled in comparison to the way Dermot looked now. He was no larger than Haldir, but his muscular frame left no doubt to the strength it held. His raven hair hung nearly to his waist, and bronze skin stretched taunt over the bones in his bare chest.

Black pants and heavy leather boots were all he wore as he stood before them, the sapphire blue flames glistening around him the only other thing that covered him. They were mingling with the lighter blue flickers covering Grace as he held her clamped against him, refusing to let her go. Seeing them together, neither Haldir or Nuada had any doubt these two were of the same lineage . . . the hair so black it flashed blue, the tanned skin, the amazing grey eyes . . . all of it was the same.

Shifting his grasp somewhat, Dermot drug Grace around to his side, clamping her head under his arm. In combination with her wounds, the hold was excruciating, and she screamed again. Her cries only served to stoke the burning anger of two elves watching, and they both eased closer to the wicked cross breed holding Grace in his grasp.

"Release her!" Nuada demanded, but Dermot only glared back at him, a slight smile touching his lips.

"Never! She is my descendant, and I may do with her as I please." He paused to glance at the human struggling under his hold. "And I please to destroy her!" The grip on her never eased, and he seemed to enjoy the obvious pain he was causing her. The feeling her writhing against him only making his grip tighten.

"This has been a long time coming my friend." Nuada said quietly, reaching over his shoulder to unsheathed the evil weapon on his back. "And now that time has come." Twirling the short staffed spear lightly in his hands, he squared his stance in front of Dermot, waiting for him to move.

Dermot was delighted by the challenge, flaming bright enough to make Haldir turn away, the blinding light tearing at his eyes. Grace could not turn away, and her desperate cry sounded again as the light hit her, that scream only becoming more desperate as she felt herself being thrown. Dermot had tossed her away as easily as one would a piece of trash, and he paid no attention to location when he threw her, only focusing on the thrilling prospect of waging war against Nuada.

Unfortunately for Grace, they were still at the edge of the cliff, and she'd gone over. Her screams ripped through the growing darkness as Haldir tore for the path, seeing Nuada lunge for Dermot just as he rushed past. He was positive she would be dead when he reached the bottom, and he knew his heart would break at the sight he'd find.

The only reason Grace wasn't dead at the bottom of the cliff, was that she was so angry when she fell. If she hadn't been so furious and so focused, there would have been no chance. Grace had never manipulated her own body, but the fury flowing through her allowed her enough mental energy to slow her descent, and she landed in a huge fern like plant the size of her truck. It wasn't exactly a pillow, but it did cushion the impact somewhat. She didn't break anything, and it didn't kill her but the new blackness surrounding her, along with these wild new sensations, was overwhelming.. Finding herself trapped in the middle of what felt like an endless jungle of spiny branches and sticky leaves only infuriated her worse. She felt very much like a bug stuck on a spider's web. Cursing loud enough to make the air burn, Grace fought at the plant like a wild animal, but didn't make one bit of progress, and when Haldir reached the bottom he didn't know what to think.

A gigantic mass of greener in front of him was shaking wildly, with all manner of crude and vile words pouring out of it. Knowing better than to go in after her, he stood there for a moment, wondering how to get her out. This plant was well known to the elves, and they knew to avoid it at all costs. They called it a sticky plant, it's sharp thin branches covered with thousands upon thousands of little green oval shaped leaves that would instantly fuse themselves to anything they touched. Haldir could only imagine what she'd look like when she got out, but he didn't care so long as she was alive.

Across the wading pool Duer froze, not believing the sight that had just unfolded in front of him. As one of the gardeners, he was in search of the answer to what happened during the day to kill an entire swath of rosebushes right down the center of his beautiful garden. He'd followed the trail of blackened limbs and withered grass as far as the wading pool when he saw Grace fall from the sky. Now he was trying to comprehend how she was still alive, and if he should offer assistance to the marchwarden he'd just seen come tearing down after her.

Inside the bush, Grace was fighting for hers, and finally let her anger take over. She flared brighter than she ever had and fried that damn plant to it's very roots. Her eyes couldn't see it, but when she stood up, there was a ten foot spot of nothing but burnt dirt surrounding her, and she was more than ready to do it again. Duer was still watching, stunned by the sight of one more beloved plant being reduced to black ashes. Staring in amazement, his ears picked up sounds drifting from the cliff above. Obviously one hellacious fight was taking place up there, and after seeing what the strange human in front of him could do, he wondered if Rivendell was being invaded by marauders. With eyes still wide with wonder, he ran stumbling up the wide dirt path, desperate to reach the buildings. He needed to get Lord Elrond, and he needed to alert the royal guard!

As Grace's bare feet stood within what little remained of the torturous bush, Haldir watched her. She was angrier now than she'd been this morning, incensed by the loss of her sight, and he knew he was in for the fight of his life. One the top of the cliff, Nuada and Dermot were locked in a desperate battle for theirs as well, knowing only one of them would remain when it was over.

When Duer finally found Lord Elrond, he was so upset and out of breath, he was on the verge of collapse. It was evening meal and many of the elves filling the great hall stopped to stare and listen, as Duer panted for breath and struggled to speak. "Invaders . . . at the wading pool . . . she fell from the sky! A guardian is there, and a war is being waged on the cliffs!" He continued to gasp, and Elrond went cold from his words. Obviously Nuada and Haldir found Grace, and it wasn't going as expected.

Telling everyone to remain calm, he instantly went for the doorway, rushing down the corridors toward the southern porch. He called out with his mind for Gandalf to join him, and together the two great friends tore down the path to the wading pools. He'd made another mental plea as well, his connection to his brother instant, his demand one that would certainly be met.

"Grace . . . listen to me Erulissë." Haldir's soothing voice said softly. "You are safe now. No one is going to harm you." He was praying to the Valar that was true, and the evil being up on that cliff wasn't going to come tearing down after her any second now. He hoped Nuada was capable of everything he'd always heard, and desperately wanted Grace out of here in case he wasn't.

Haldir certainly wasn't afraid of a fight. Quite the opposite, he enjoyed the art of battle immensely, but saving Grace was much more important right now. Unfortunately, she didn't want to be saved. Grace glared in the direction of the marchwarden, pure hatred pouring off her, the waves that hit him that morning nothing compared to the ones he was feeling now. She was throwing off emotions so strong, she was making the water in the pool behind him ripple, and he knew he had his own war to wage.

"Stop this!" he nearly screamed at her, hoping the raised voice would somehow register. "We must leave this place at once!" His words met her ears, but they did not have the desired effect. She took a menacing step toward him, thin black wisps of smoke beginning to wrap themselves around her feet as she did, warning him what was coming. He refused to back down. No matter what power Grace possessed, no damn human woman was going to threaten him again.

Deep blue eyes flared with their own anger as he stepped toward her. If she wanted a fight, he'd damn well give it to her whether she could see him or not. "Your only warning," he told her calmly. 'because I assure you Grace, blessed bloodline or not, you shall bring me no harm." Haldir watched her very carefully, his mind already working out the best way to capture her. His preferred weapon was the bow, but obviously that didn't apply to this situation, and he didn't have one with him anyway. It was of no consequence. As the General of the marchwardens he had nearly two thousand years training in the art of physical submission, and if he could get close enough, he would subdue her in seconds.

Staring in his direction, Grace dared him to come and get her, her black eyes taunting him, telling him he'd never put one finger on her. "There's not a fence around my ass!" She told him viciously. "You think you can come get me? Try it!" Haldir's eyes narrowed. He didn't know how to get around her mental powers, but he was going to put his hands on her, and in the worst kind of way.

At the top of the cliff, Niall materialized just in time to watch Nuada sink his blade right through the heart of Dermot. He was torn all to pieces, a number of ferocious cuts tracing across his body, his shirt reduced to rags, his nose broken and bloody. Dermot had come armed, and he'd done his fair share of damage with the large knife he'd hidden in his waistband. Nuada won, but it had come at a steep price.

Niall shook his head sadly at the sight before him. The two warriors had never liked one another, and he always knew this day would come. Now one of them was dead, and the world would be a less beautiful place for it. A single tear traced it's way across his finely wrinkled skin as Niall looked over the body of his dead son, yet his heart was not heavy. Dermot may have been his child, but he had also been cruel and full of hate. Grace was safe from him now. She may have inherited some of his traits, but she was not evil, and she would be saved.

Slowly, Niall walked over to Nuada, wanting to comfort him somehow. He had only done what was necessary to protect the girl, fulfilling the demands Niall made of him. Niall's words were in the language of his people, completely incomprehensible to human or elf ears, but the meaning in any language was the same. Niall forgave Nuada for what he had done, and there would be no retribution.

"The girl belongs to you now." Niall told him firmly, sea green eyes locked with emerald ones, as Nuada stared in disbelief. That was absolutely not what he expected to hear!

"What!" he exclaimed. He was still trying to collect himself from the battle he'd just fought, and now he was facing this! "She is mine? Mine in what way?"

Niall lifted his head, every inch a commanding lord and ruler as he spoke to his subordinate. "From this day forward, you shall have say in her future. She is your responsibility for the rest of her days."

"I have not yet agreed to be her guardian!" Nuada fumed, yet his complaints fell on deaf ears. Niall would hear none of it, his decision final.

"You will do as you are told." He said firmly, with a steady glare. "The girl is yours." Then he slowly faded away.

It took Nuada a few moments to collect himself, then he realized both Grace and Haldir were gone. He had been so involved in the fight he waged, he had not even stopped to consider that Grace might be dead! Willing his battered body down the mountain path as quickly as possible, he finally reached the wading pools, and could not believe the sight that met his eyes.

Lord Elrond was standing there, his crimson robes hanging in wet folds around him, his dark hair dripping with water where Grace had thrown him into the water. Haldir was livid, consumed with anger at the human woman. Not only had she managed to throw him in as well, she'd also rolled him through another of the sticky plants, and he had hundreds of little green leaves clinging to every part of him. He looked as bedraggled as one could possibly imagine, and Nuada wondered if he actually did get hold of Grace, if she'd survive it.

Haldir was actually getting very close to capturing her. He'd gotten her timing down, realizing there was a slight pause after she threw the force from her mind at him before she could do it again. This break was going to allow him to get her, and oh did he ever intend to get her. His deep blue eyes blazed with fury as the two continued to face off with one another, the soothing words Elrond had offered doing nothing whatsoever in way of calming her.

Grace was as terrified as she had ever been, and she was lashing out with everything she had. That blinding light Dermot threw off at the top of the cliff had blinded her, she couldn't see one thing, and she was scared to death. The last thing she knew, she was sitting on the top of the cliff, then she'd been snatched to her feet and unceremoniously thrown over a cliff. Now she was blind, and she was convinced Haldir was trying to kill her.

Even though she couldn't see him, Grace knew exactly where he was. It had taken the past 24 hours, but his blood had truly become one with hers, completely permeating her in every way. She didn't need to see him. She could sense him, feel him, hear him, almost taste him. Closing her shielded eyes, she could see him in her mind as clearly as if he'd had a flashing neon sign over his head, and she was determined to leave this place, even if meant killing him to do it.

Haldir was her intended target when she accidentally caught Lord Elrond and tossed him backwards into the wading pool. He was a victim of circumstance, but she really didn't care when she heard his startled cry. Anyone stupid enough to come after her right now deserved exactly what they got. Seeing the condition of the two elves, Nuada was cautious not to alert Grace to his presence.

He was ever so careful as he eased up behind her, picking his way slowly and silently through the heavy underbrush. He'd almost reached her when she suddenly turned to face him. Somehow her tormented mind sensed his presence, and every trace of anger left her instantly as she stood before him. Nuada expected her to lash out at him, and he was prepared for it, but instead she froze.

Behind her Elrond and Haldir froze too. They couldn't believe the sight of the elven warrior, the cuts hanging open on his chest, the blood running down him as he stood and faced her. Grace didn't know how, but somehow she knew Nuada was there, his aura spoke to her and told her he was terribly wounded. She reached a blind hand toward him, and he responded in kind. He gently grasped her fingers in his hand, his blood mingling with hers as he pulled her toward him, cradling her in his arms. They both needed comfort right now, and as he held her, the burning blue glow of her skin instantly enveloped him, yet he did not burn. Instead the flames caressed him, carefully licking at the cuts and stabs, silently healing every one.

No words were spoken as Nuada held her, Grace's magnificent healing aura reaching into his very soul to remove the last traces of pain there. It was like nothing he had every felt, like nothing he had ever seen and when she was finished his body was whole again. He held her a moment longer, then carefully raised his hand and placed it over her eyes. "Sleep Erulisse. Sleep." Nuada whispered, catching Grace as she slumped against him, instantly unconscious in his arms.

Nuada said nothing to the others, simply scooped her up and began to ever so slowly make his way back up the path to Imladris. Elrond and Haldir both watched this unfold in awe and wonder, knowing Nuada was something far more than a simple elf, and that he held a bond with Grace reaching far deeper than their conversation with Niall. They silently followed him as he made his way up the now dark path, returning Grace to the bedchamber she so desperately sought escape from.

***************************************

Laying Grace gently on the bed a little while later, Nuada was as stunned by her condition as the others had been by his. Her skin was deathly pale and the strangest light blue cast clung to it. Blood had been oozing down her left side, and in addition to the large red stain at the top of her shift, there were other huge streaks of blood on her gown where she rubbed her hands on it. The gown was completely filthy, covered in dirt and singed around the edges with tiny bits of black ash clinging to it..

In addition to her disheveled clothing, her skin was raw from the abrasive spines of the plant and added to the bruises she already had, she looked pitiful. The wound on her neck was not covered, and Dermot's cruel grasp had torn it open again. It looked angry and painful with blood seeping from it, and the 2 small holes on the other side of her neck served as a sad reminder of the previous night. Never had he seen a living person in such a state in all his years.

Haldir and Elrond stared at them both. Nuada's body might be healed, but the blood remained. It covered him from the streaks in his shimmering blonde hair to the rivulets drying under his nose. His clothes were now rags, and he was shaking with emotion at the things he had done. Haldir was in little better condition, soaking wet and freezing as he stood dripping on the floor. He was completely covered in tiny green leaves, and the thin branches had torn at his skin leaving him raked and bleeding.

Neither of them was in any condition to tend to Grace, and even Elrond was in desperate need of a change of clothes and some time by the fire. Gandalf stared at them all, shoked at the state this powerful group of men had been reduced to by such a simple human woman. She was truly amazing, and also in need of serious medical attention.

"Go!" he ordered them. "I shall remain with her until you return. No other shall lay hand on her, I swear it." The three gave him instant glares, yet Gandalf would have none of it, unceremoniously shooing the entire group from the room in search of a warm bath and clean clothes. He would not tend to the girl, leaving her for Haldir. Her condition would not deteriorate so much before he could return to her. He contented himself with covering her small form with a thick blanket then settled into a nearby chair. Nuada had placed her deeply under the sleep spell, and she would not be waking any time soon.

More than an hour passed before Haldir and Nuada returned. Both elves looked better, yet a cloud of sorrow hung over them both. The past hours had brought torment of different sorts to each of them, and they were both deeply disturbed by this day's events. Neither knew what Grace would be like when she woke, and they worried for her and for themselves.

"Will she see again?" Haldir asked softly, his eyes locked on her sleeping form, his voice raw with concern.

"Yes. It will take hours, possibly even a day, but she will recover." Nuada's answer was quiet, his voice flat, emotionally drained. He had seen this before, and knew the blindness was not permanent. Grace should be comforted when her sight returned, and hopefully they could control her until then. He stepped closer to the bed and stood there, watching her sleep.

Turning to his friend, Haldir asked his next question. "How long will she sleep?"

"Several hours." Nuada answered, looking over her carefully. He had the power to make her sleep for days if necessary, but he wanted Grace to wake, knowing she needed to eat and drink. "Hopefully her sight will return by that time." If it had not, and she could not be controlled, he could place her under the spell again, but he hoped to avoid that if possible. Giving her leg a quick squeeze through the blanket, Nuada turned away, stepping toward the balcony doorway.

Giving Haldir an uncertain look, Nuada wondered if the marchwarden would be disturbed if he left. More than anything else, he needed time alone with his thoughts. Sensing his turmoil, Haldir walked to where he stood and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, passing on the comfort he received earlier in the day. "Worry not my friend. I shall care for her in your absence. We all are concerned by these events. Return when you are rested." Nuada was greatly relieved by his words. He nodded his appreciation, then walked to the balcony and faded into the darkness.

With his exit, Gandalf stood to leave as well. Haldir was very capable of tending to the girl, and she certainly needed tending to. It would take some time to get those wounds under control, but he knew Haldir was more than capable. "Take care of both of you." Gandalf told him, then quietly left the room.

Retrieving bandages and a new shift, Haldir didn't concern himself with modesty, simply pulling the filthy clothing off her. Nuada's sleep spell was working to perfection, and she remained thankfully unaware as he tended to her. Once the awful gown was off, he carefully covered her exposed breasts, refusing to allow himself to look at her so intimately in her current state. He then went to work cleaning her wound, washing the blood away where it had run down her side, and painstakingly removing every trace of dirt from her, right down to her perfect little feet.

Grace wasn't completely nude, her soft lilac lace panties remained, and Haldir couldn't help but take in every inch of her as he gently washed her body. She was trim, her skinned tanned by the sun in every place he could see, and there were scars. He couldn't imagine what she had been through in her lifetime to produce such marks, but perhaps once day she would tell him.

When he finished cleaning her, he thoroughly bandaged her neck and pulled the new gown on her. Supporting her body carefully with pillows, he arranged her as comfortably as possible, then sat in a chair to watch her sleep. The need to protect her was so strong, it was consuming him, and he felt positive should any other man touch her he would surely kill them.

It was a short time later when she stirred, waking with a start and reaching to her neck. Haldir waited for the explosion of emotion he had witnessed this morning to repeat itself, but it didn't. She simply felt the bandages on her neck, and gingerly pulled herself up farther in the bed. The room was completely dark, and Haldir hoped it would ease any sensitivity if her eyes were working again when she woke. Unfortunately, her vision had not returned, and her hands searched feverishly her for some clue as to her surroundings. She eased toward the edge of the bed, desperate to know where she was, and Haldir gently warned her not to get off the bed in case she fainted.

He quickly came to sit beside her, her physical condition his first concern, and he checked the bandages thoroughly. The neck wound seemed to have stopped bleeding, and he was relieved that no significant damage seemed to have been done during the fall. Her emotional state was little better than her physical one, and Haldir knew she had no idea how to come to terms with the situation she was facing. Fortunately, his presence comforted her, and she reached out for him in the darkness.

"Grace? Are you ok?" he spoke to her gently.

"No," she said in a tiny, broken voice.

Grace desperately needed to be protected at that moment, and she instinctively grabbed hold of Haldir, wrapping her arms around him as she pulled herself against him and putting her head on his shoulder. He had removed his cloak as he sat in the chair watching her, and he could feel her heart pounding against him. At first he was startled by the sensation of her clinging to him, but he finally gave into it, wrapping his arms around her and nestling her close to his chest as he rubbed her softly on the back.

She felt delicate and warm in his arms, and he found himself wanting more. "You are safe," he whispered to her softly. After a few minutes she calmed, and pulled away from him. Her heart was still pounding, and she put her hand over it, terrified that she could not see. Haldir knew she was getting upset, and pulled her back into his arms, holding her firmly against him. "Fear not Pinilyaer." He told her quietly. "I am here for you." His hands were soft and gentle as he held her against him, and she could feel him breathing in the stillness.

"Please don't leave me." Grace begged him softly, her voice racked with fear as she spoke. Haldir simply held her close until her heart quieted, then carefully held her away from him.

"Come with me." He ordered, his voice gentle on the night air. "I know you have needs that have not been tended." Helping her from the bed, he carefully led her down the corridor to the bathroom, opening the door and leading her inside. Grace had been here before, and knew the general layout of the place. "Can you manage?" He asked politely, knowing she could not see, and Grace nodded. It would be difficult, but she would be alright.

Hearing the door close, she attended to the necessities, then made her way to the sink. The cold water felt good on her hands, and she washed her face and rinsed her mouth over and over. She'd never wished for a toothbrush so hard in her life, but she rubbed her teeth with the cloth Haldir left for her and felt a lot better afterward. He'd obviously cleaned her while she slept, because the filthy feeling was gone, although she still wanted a shower in the worst way. Knowing she was finished, she had no idea how to get out now, and called to Haldir to help her.

He was instantly at her side, his arm gentle around her waist and he led her ever so slowly back down the corridor to the bedchamber. For the first time since coming there, she heard the door close behind her as she entered the room and the lock being turned. Her heart froze in her chest as she realized she was trapped in this room with Haldir. Perhaps her feelings from earlier were correct – maybe he did want to kill her!

"Haldir? Haldir, why did you lock the door? Is something wrong?" She trembled as she waited for an answer, and was surprised when she felt his lips brush against her forehead. It was one thing to see that someone was going to kiss you, but to be wrapped in complete darkness and feel it, was something else entirely. Standing in the middle of the room, she felt his arms as they came around her enveloping her in their warmth, pulling her against him.

Her body burned as he began to touch her, his lips gently grazing her ear as his silken hair flowed over her shoulder. Ever so softly, Haldir traced a finger around the bruises on her eye, then trailed it down to the ones on her mouth. Leaning his head down to hers, he placed the softest of kisses imaginable on the bruised place by her eye, then trailed his lips down to hers.

Grace wondered if she was dreaming when she felt Haldir's lips gently taste hers, the only other sensation the warm caress of the night's breeze. His kiss was delicate, and he seemed aware of how bruised and sore her lips were. The touches were tentative at first, but then he deepened it, carefully opening her mouth with his tongue, and she couldn't help but kiss him back. Her lips hurt like hell, but it was still the most wonderful kiss she'd ever had, and within seconds she felt like she was melting. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him and her hands found their way to his face. Gently she explored him with her fingers, then slid them into that wonderful platinum hair. It felt like silk in her hands, like cool water flowing over her hot skin, and she didn't want the feelings to ever end.

Haldir didn't move his hands from where they rested on each side of her waist, he simply kissed her for the longest time. When his lips finally lifted from hers, she was completely breathless. Slowly his strong hands came to cup her face in their warmth. "You are like no other I have ever met." he told her softly, his velvety lips brushing her cheek yet again. Grace caught her breath as he began to trace the faint scars that ran around her hairline toward her neck with his mouth, kissing each and every one of them, slowly working his way down her face to the hollow of her throat. As if by it's own volition, Grace found herself leaning her head away, instantly allowing him better access to her flesh.

To see and feel someone while they are touching you is a wonderful sensation, but to rely solely on their touches and not be able to anticipate them was something else entirely. Haldir was introducing her to the agonies of pleasure, and Grace was a willing pupil. His expert touches stroked her body, his slow torment creating a deep burning desire that heated her very blood. Finally, he had her gasping for air and she reached up to gently pushed him away. "Why are you doing this?" She rasped breathlessly.

Standing in the stillness of the night, Haldir considered the human woman in front of him. Elves never found a human attractive or desirable, they paled in comparison to his kind. Yet he found Grace to be absolutely bewitching, tantalizing his senses as no other ever had. Her very scent intrigued him, and he could only imagine what it would be like to possess her. The warmth of her flesh felt perfect under his fingers, and remembering Elrond's words, he wondered if they were true. If he succumbed to his desires, would he be forgiven?

Reaching for in the darkness, Haldir pulled her against him again. He wanted to lay with Grace more than he'd wanted anything in decades. He dreamed of possessing her body with his, wanting to hear her cry with pleasure from his touch. He wanted to feel her body move beneath his, and hear her whispered pleas in the night. "I want to possess you." he finally answered, his voice low and sultry on the quiet night air. "I want to touch you, I want to taste you." He trembled against her at the thought of his words, then traced his tongue along her lower lip. "But if you desire me to stop, I shall respect your wishes."

Grace's head was spinning from his words, only imagining what he had in mind, and that slight tremble of his body against hers was driving her to a fever pitch. Knowing her resistance was not that strong, she began to give in. "Don't stop." The soft southern voice demanded, Grace not believing the words came out of her mouth. She rarely messed around before the accident, and she hadn't been with anyone since, positive no man would ever want to touch skin that was so scarred.

Haldir said nothing, arrogance filling him that he would get his way. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his mouth knowing this was torture of the worst kind. His damp mouth gently kissed every scar that twined around her fingers, slowly tracing the ones that ran up her arm with his mouth and tongue. His hair was tantalizing as it grazed her flesh, and by the time his hot breath ran across her collarbone, Grace was completely consumed by desire for the gorgeous elf. She put her hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Haldir wait . . ." The ragged breath she struggled for offered no relief as he paused in his torment, "it's been so long since I . . .I don't want us to regret this tomorrow."

Haldir simply raised his head and returned to her lips, silently possessing it again in the most breathtaking kiss Grace had ever received in her life. He kissed her forever, and she was weak in his arms when he finally lifted his mouth from hers. "Tomorrow, I shall only want to do the same." he whispered, and Grace realized her heart was in danger of beating clear out of her chest.

"Please be careful, Haldir." She begged him softly, thinking the man must be the devil sent to tempt her. "I don't need to be used right now, so please . . . I know how my body looks. If you don't want to do this, just leave. I won't be mad, I promise." Her voice was trembling with desire as she spoke, and it was so much worse because she would not see him, could not see the emotions on his face or in his eyes.

As his hands grazed her thighs, he caught her mouth and Haldir made it clear he had absolutely no intentions of leaving. "I have seen your scars." He breathed out against her ear, his voice slightly sad on the night air. "You have suffered more than I can imagine, but you are no less beautiful than if your skin was perfect."

Grace felt tormented by his words, hoping they were true yet wondering if he was simply trying to comfort her any way possible. His hands gently prowling across her hipbones pushed that thought from her mind, and she quickly focused on what he was doing instead of what she was thinking. "I can't do this." She told him softly. "I haven't even had a bath . . ."

"I washed you while you slept." Haldir's voice interrupted, raw with desire, refusing to accept any excuse she offered as a valid one. "Every inch of you is quite clean, I promise." His lips captured hers again, as the roaming of his hands became bolder, never touching a forbidden place but grazing the flesh closest to it with frightening precision. Grace could feel the fires of passion flaming with her, and she wondered if this was a dream or if it was really happening.

"I am quite real." Haldir murmured in her ear, reading her thoughts. "And if you wish to touch me, you shall see for yourself that my desire for you is quite real as well." Those words made Grace so hot, she thought she'd catch on fire, and if she'd been able to see, there were actually tiny little blue flickers running under her skin she was so full of longing. She wasn't nearly so bold as to do what he suggested, but she did allow herself the freedom of exploring his chest with her hands. The heavy wrap was gone, and she found his shirt to be velvety smooth under her fingers. His chest was hard and ripped with muscles, and as wonderful as it felt through his shirt, it paled in comparison to how fantastic it felt when she pulled it lose from his pants and ran them under it.

Haldir drew a sharp breath when her hands touched his flesh for the first time, her touch so soft and warm against him. Quickly, he pulled the shirt off, tossing it to the floor then dragging her back against him. The sensations were fantastic, and Grace found herself amazed by the softness of this skin. It was perfectly smooth since elves have no body hair, and it felt like silk under her hands. His mouth was still roaming over her face and neck, and when his hands came to rest on the shoulders of her shift, she felt her heart stop.

"Might I have your permission to remove this?" His breathless voice asked, and Grace froze. If she said yes, her entire world was going to change even more dramatically than it had already. He sensed her hesitation, and was sincere as he reassured her. "Grace, I swear I would never harm you. I wish only to bring you pleasure this night."

Those were the last words spoken in that room for the next several hours. Grace never answered Haldir, simply allowed him to remove her shift and gently guide her to the bed. His touches were tender, almost reverent as he held her. He was ever careful of her wounds and cautious of her bruises, yet he found ways to please her she had never even dreamed of. Haldir's body was perfect, and when Grace felt it bare against her, she did not need the gift of sight to appreciate the beauty of it.

There were no expectations of lasting love when Grace allowed Haldir to take her. She wasn't so young or naïve as to expect this was going to turn into a love to last the ages. It was going to be nothing more than sex between two consenting adults, or so she thought. As Haldir buried himself in the warm softness of her, Grace suddenly found herself completely overwhelmed by his very essence. They were bonded to one another by blood, and when he possessed her body, their minds touched - melding them together in ways she could barely comprehend. It was like nothing she had ever dreamed of, nothing she could even describe and he brought her pleasure again and again, taking her to heights of satisfaction she could not imagine.

Grace had read in magazines and on the internet that humans thought sex with a vampire was the best sex possible. Well, they haven't ever been with an elf, Grace found herself thinking as she lay in his arms. Haldir was unbelievable – he was gentle, he was demanding, and he was damn near perfect. She had never been so content in her life.

The thoughts running through Haldir's mind weren't what he had expected either. He had been terrified at the idea of making love to a human woman, worried he might harm her since she seemed so fragile. Feeling her body pressed against him now, Haldir had no regrets. Laying with Grace had been like standing in the ocean, being overtaken again and again by wild waves of passion and desire. He found her irresistible, completely intoxicating to his senses, and the white hot passion running through her had shocked him.

As he lay there lost in his thoughts, Haldir realized Grace was asleep, and slipped silently from the bed to dress. Before he left, he gently leaned over to kiss her cheek, delighting in the little smile that fluttered across her face. Stroking her cheek gently with his finger, he whispered to her. "Esteë A'maelamin – Rest my beloved."


	9. She is Yours

Chapter 9 – She is Yours

"Beg me." The odd male voice demanded softly, commanding the tall thin red haired werewolf to obey. "Beg me . . . Beg me to touch you." The voice was low and sultry, velvet against her ears, and it made her feel weak in the knees.

"Please . . . please god just do it . . . anyway you'd like, just please take me now!" her voice was breathless from wanting him, shrill with a slightly annoying west coast accent, but he didn't care. This creature did not come to this place, or pay for this room to hear the female talk. One pale hand was up the pitiful excuse of miniskirt she was wearing, planted firmly on the exposed skin of her leg just above the elastic lace band surrounding the top of that black thigh high stocking. The other elegant hand held a handful of hair, right at the base of her neck. Her head was tilted back at an awkward angle, and he knew he was causing her pain.

"Pitiful Fír Gaur, pitiful mortal werewolf . . . Beg Tûr ! Beg your master . . . I must hear more from you, or I shall not please you." the voice is growling, condescending as it cuts through her desire filled mind like a knife, stoking her to a fevered pitch. She likes it this way, and he knows it. "Beg me Grace . . . tell me what you want me to do to you."

"What the fuck did you just call me?" The shrill voice screeched in anger, before being instantly cut off by the hand suddenly clamped around her throat.

"I can call you anything I damn well please! You know what I expect from you!" He glared at her, cut glass eyes of emerald green shimmering in the faint light. "I will not tolerate your mouth!"

Serena cowered in front of him, furious at the slight. The werewolf was his usual, the one the gorgeous blonde asked for when he came here and needed to find release. Money was never an object, and he was stunningly beautiful, but tonight his mood was unusually cruel. Nuada had never called Serena by any name, not even her own, and while she was willing to go along to a point, she didn't like the pure chills the venom in his voice was throwing down her spine.

Nearly gasping for breath, she whispered a single word. "Candlestick." Her voice infuriated him that much more, and Serena honestly thought Nuada might kill her in that very moment.

"You fucking bitch!" he growled out, slamming her violently against the wall, his face so close against hers she could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. "I hope you enjoyed that you little whore, because this is the last time you ever will!" Nuada was furious, and Serena wished she didn't care.

Whatever had crawled up Nuada's ass had hold of him in the worst way, but no matter how much he paid for her company, it wasn't worth this. That blonde pointy eared creature was absolutely the most gorgeous thing Serena had ever seen, and she'd lusted after him from the first moment her deep brown eyes ever crossed his flesh. No matter what client she entertained, he was the one she waited for, preparing herself ever so carefully night after night on the off chance he would stop by, praying one day he might take an interest in her that extended outside the private sex suite they were in. It hadn't happened, but it was still her dream and she wasn't ready to let it go quite yet.

Candlestick was Serena's safe word, they had agreed on it. There were times Nuada could get aggressive, and if she so much as whispered that word, he was to stop what he was doing that very moment. One more touch and she'd scream at the top of her lungs. It wouldn't matter if Serena did scream. That luxury suite they were in was one of the private rooms at Crash Mansion, the most exclusive nightclub in Los Angeles, and they were soundproof. Nuada was one of their most coveted regulars, and Serena was one of the things they provided for his pleasure. The werewolf knew he didn't think she was pretty, but Serena allowed wild liberties with her body that satisfied him, and he came back for more. It cost several thousand dollars for her company and the use of one of the six private rooms for a couple of hours, and Devlin knew Nuada was good for it.

Nuada had been a regular patron of Crash Mansion for several years now. The front portion was a typical bar – dark and loud with live entertainment and a limited menu that drew a steady stream night after night. In the back, however, there was something else entirely. Through that securely locked and very intimidating black door was a completely different bar. Here everything was black, softly lit and carefully tailored to the supernatural crowd. There were huge black leather sofas and chairs everywhere, and couples were free to use them for anything they pleased . . . and that meant anything. Sex took place right out in the open here, there was no need for secrets. There were also several very private rooms in the back that you could use for a tremendous fee if you liked to keep your love life a little more private, and Nuada preferred privacy.

Whatever your pleasure was, Devlin would fulfill it – women, drink, drugs – he had it all. Devlin was one of the owners, and you had to be both supernatural and extremely rich for him to open that black door and invite you in. And invite was the correct word – you didn't get in, you were invited in. Nuada had been invited in the first time he stepped in this place, and he'd returned more times that Serena could count over the past few years. She hadn't seen him for the past couple of days, but that gorgeous blonde hunk was there now and in a ferocious mood.

Watching him carefully, the panicked werewolf was relieved when he stepped away from her. Cautious of his temper as she went to sit down on the huge leather sofa bed stretched out along the far wall, Serena tried to reach out to Nuada. "You want to talk about it?" she asked softly. He'd never confided in her, but she had enough common sense to know the poor creature had been devastated by something.

"No." he answered softly. "Sorry if I hurt you." Serena frowned, knowing he most certainly wasn't the type to apologize – ever.

"If you change you mind, let me know. I'm not just for entertainment . . . I've got ears too." As Serena stood to leave, Nuada gave her a sympathetic glance. He really didn't mean to harm or even scare the werewolf. His mind was just so full of torment right then, he needed relief anyway he could get it. Hearing the door close, his hands found his temples, slowly trying to rub the pain away, willing the pounding in his head to release it. The pain stubbornly refused to relent, and he felt as if his head would explode in that very moment.

Staring blankly at the black wall in front of him,Nuada slowly realized something. The pain in his head was not his own. The pain belonged to Grace, and she was reflecting it to him. Closing his eyes, Nuada shook his head in disbelief. This thing he had gotten himself involved in was becoming more unbearable by the moment. Niall knew better than to demand this of him, and what in hell was he going to do with this human girl now?

Considering his pounding head and the growing aches in his body, he realized something else. Niall had done a lot more than make him responsible for her safety. He'd bonded their auras, and Nuada became so incensed he thought he would explode. How dare the arrogant Fairy Lord do such a thing!

Consumed with fury, he morphed himself out of the room and into the den of his home. It was the penthouse of a thirty story high rise, and he could see the lights of Los Angeles stretched out before him. Closing his eyes, he made a mental demand and went for the wet bar on the far side of the room. The Crown Royal was just filling the glass when he heard the distinctive pop behind him. He swallowed the entire glass in one gulp, then slammed the glass to the table hard enough to crack it as he turned to face the Fairy Lord.

"What have you done to me?" he demanded viciously, his green eyes filled with lightening as his temper flared. "What did you do with Dermot?"

Niall watched him carefully, knowing the temper Nuada possessed. He was not frightened of him in the least, only cautious should he need to get out of the way. "I did as I wanted." The powerful fairy told him flatly, his voice melodic yet firm and commanding in the same breath.

"And what exactly did you want?" Nuada growled out, knowing full well the fairy lord had done a number of things. He just wanted to hear him admit it.

Niall considered the most unpleasant demeanor of the creature standing across from him, and in some small way felt pity for him. Nuada did not ask for this thing he was now subjected to, but Niall didn't have to ask permission.

"When Dermot passed, I redirected certain portions of his essence." His soft voice informed. "His life force is being saved for Grace, the bond of their auras I released to you. As I told you before, she belongs to you now."

Green eyes glazed over in disbelief as Nuada turned back to the wet bar. His hand was shaking so bad, he could hardly get the top off the liquor bottle to fix another drink, and he was seriously considering just swigging it when he did. Finally, he managed to get it loose and filled the glass to the very top. Lifting it to his lips, he began to swallow, not even aware of the scorching heat as it ran down him. "You intend to make a human immortal." He said flatly.

"I may do anything I wish!" Niall grated back at him. "When Dermot's essence is bestowed upon my great-grandchild she will not be immortal, but she will have a very long life, of that you can be assured. Is it not fair that the fae essence of her grandfather, my son, be allowed to carry on?" There was a hard warning in those words, and Nuada cringed at their meaning.

"And so you choose favorites now? Is there not more than one? Is Grace more valuable than the blonde human . . . the one called Sookie?" Nuada was convinced the Fairy Lord was not in his right mind, obviously not stopping to consider the possible ramifications of his actions.

Niall stared at him coldly, his arms crossing over his chest in irritation at being questioned in such a manner. He owed explanations to no one, least of all Nuada. He was the Fairy Lord of the Land of Light, and he could do anything he damn well pleased with anyone or anything regarding the fae!

"Nuada, I will humor your words this night, but think not that it shall happen again." his cold voice told him. "I do not intend to choose between my descendents. The opportunity simply presents itself to pass on such a gift to Grace though the ritual cannot be completed before she is healed. Rest your mind that Sookie shall also be given the gift of long life, if she does not subordinate herself to that nightwalker she insists on accompanying first."

Nuada raised his eyebrows at that. It had never occurred to him that Sookie might some day allow Eric to turn her into a vampire, but he'd seen them together in Fangtasia. There was a powerful bond there, no doubt about it. "You would let her be drawn deeper into their world?" He was shocked at the very idea, not believing for one moment Niall would allow that to happen. "Why not rid her of Eric if that is not the end you desire for her?"

"I cannot." Niall told him firmly. "Sookie has taken blood of him more than three times, and they are bonded. If I kill that vampire, she would surely suffer terribly and I have no desire to bring her more grief. She has suffered enough."

"And if Eric were to turn her before another fae dies? Before you can steal another's essence to bestow to her?"

Niall glared at Nuada, his words incensing him, causing his eyes to burn with fire as he watched him across the room. "If he turns her, the end result shall be the same. Her life will be preserved for a very long time."

Nuada was overwhelmed by his words. Even the Fairy Lord himself knew better than to meddle in the affairs of these humans! And to even consider extending the life of not one, but now two of them was unconscionable! "Why do you care?" he nearly screamed at him. "Who cares what happens to these damn humans?"

Niall took a threatening step toward him, the bright light of his aura beginning to fill the entire penthouse as he came very close to losing his temper. "Our race dwindles and dies. The two humans are of fae descent. They carry my blood in their veins, as diluted as it might be. They will live because I command it, and my will shall be done!" His voice boomed through that den as he spoke the final words, and Nuada knew he better shut up while he was ahead.

Clamping his lips into a thin line of disgust, Nuada continued to stare at Niall. "And what of Grace and her bond? What do you intent to do about that? You do realize she is now bonded to that elf in the worst possible way!"

Niall gave him a look of pure contempt, and took another menacing step toward him. "That was not my decision . . . it was the only way to preserve her life force." Niall growled out viciously, passing him a look of pure contempt, as he took another menacing step toward him.

"Well what am I supposed to do with her now? You've bonded her to me as well, and you'll be lucky if it doesn't split her fragile little human brain right in half! You of all knew better than to do such a thing!" Nuada growled the words out fiercely, not believing his mouth was forming the words, not believing a human woman now belonged to him in the Fairy Lord's eyes.

"She'll survive, and once she is away from my brother and his pet the longing will dim." Niall's sea green eyes were colder than the ocean depths as he spoke, and he dared Nuada to question his decisions again, then he gave a soft, almost evil laugh. Dermot had inherited his darkness from Niall honestly. The Fairy Lord might be a fair ruler, but there was a dark streak than ran through him as wide as a river.

"Do not worry Nuada. You will be well compensated for your work just as you always are. Once Grace is returned here, do what you want with her! She is attractive is she not? Enjoy her!" He laughed harder, and Nuada felt nauseous.

"I will never allow myself to take of a human woman!" Nuada nearly screamed at him, but Niall only laughed harder.

"Fairies are not like elves Mellon nín . Humans can be quite desirable to us under the right circumstances. You may find yourself wanting that human girl more than life itself before this is over." Niall paused and raked his eyes over the arrogant man standing across from him. "I should very much like to see if Grace can put you in your place for change. I should like that very much!" He was still laughing as he slowly faded away, and Nuada was so mad he thought he'd burst into flames.

Knowing Niall was gone, Nuada closed his eyes, knowing the past several days had changed his life in such a way it would never be right again. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the liquor bottle. He would allow himself a few more hours of rest and relief before he went back.

***************************************

When Nuada's boots touched the smooth wood that made up the balconies of Imladris the next morning, he didn't know what to think. Grace was not in her room, she was stretched out flat of her back right in the middle of the balcony floor in front of her room. She was without so much as the benefit of a blanket, dressed only in the thin white shift with a pillow under her head. Her eyes were trained on the ceiling above her, and tears were pouring down her face.

Wondering what on earth was wrong with her now, Nuada eased closer, silent as he stepped toward her. Reaching out to her mind, he was instantly overwhelmed by the pain she was in. It was tormenting her, and Grace was desperate for relief. Her mind was filled with all manner of strange drawings and odd mathematical formulas, thousands of them flying past at an alarming rate, and Nuada had no idea what they meant.

Grace did. She was in as much pain as she'd been in even after the car accident. Nuada's sleep spell had numbed her senses during the night, allowing her to thoroughly enjoy her time with Haldir, but now that it was worn off she felt like she was dying. Her skin was raw, her back felt like it had been rebroken, and her face and head felt as if they would explode at any moment. She was laying on the balcony staring up at the ceiling, forcing her mind to perform the complex mathematical calculations she learned in architectural school. It took every bit of her mental focus to work the figures, and if she concentrated hard enough on them, she couldn't think about the pain. At that very moment, she was counting the roof trusses, and was calculating the pitch of the roofline over her. It was stupid, but it was the only thing she had at her disposal.

Nuada stood nearby, horrified by the pain she was in, knowing he had to do something to comfort this fragile human. His head was still pounding, but as miserable as she was making him, it certainly was not her fault. "Erulissë?" his gentle voice called. "What may I do to comfort you Erulissë?"

Grace didn't look up or over as he eased himself to sit beside her. It hurt too much to move her head or neck. Where Dermot had clamped his hand on her shoulder had torn open the vampire bites again and they hurt so bad it was beyond comprehension.

Running his eyes over her, Nuada saw that the wounds were bleeding again, actually fairly heavily, and he prayed she wouldn't need more blood because of it. "Erulissë, please answer me. There are many thing I can do for you. Saes, please tell me what you desire." His voice was soft, reassuring and even if her mind wasn't listening, her body was.

Tiny blue flames sprang up under her skin the moment Nuada came close to Grace, and now they were congregated on the side of her body closest to him. As he watched in amazement, tiny blue arcs were jumping from her arm like tiny little fireworks desperate in their attempt to reach him. Surprised, he reached out a finger, shocked when the tiny blue flame instantly met it, connecting his aura with hers once again. Grace knew it instantly, pulling strength from him and drawing the pain out of his head at the same time. Nuada sat there amazed at her power, relieved his head felt better but devastated she couldn't help herself.

"Erulissë?" he asked again, more demanding this time. "Please answer me."

Laying in front of him, Grace closed her eyes and prayed. Prayed to wake up and let this not be happening, prayed this was a dream and none of it was real. "Pain medicine." She finally answered, her voice no more than a torn and raw whisper. "Get me some pain medicine."

"Are you allergic to anything?" Nuada asked seriously, and Grace couldn't believe it. This strange existence she found herself in just kept getting weirder by the minute. How in hell would a damn elf know anything about drug allergies? It was so stupid she couldn't believe he said it. Glancing over at him, her eyes told him how odd his question was, and his eyes told her he expected her to answer it. "Answer me Erulissë! Do you want to make this worse?" His voice was loud and hard that time, and Grace knew instantly his typical soft demeanor was missing.

"No." she finally whispered, the tears only falling harder now that she'd lost her concentration on the math formulas.

Frowning desperately down at her, Nuada reached to catch one of her tears with his finger. Slowly, he raised it to his face, studying it, then finally tasted it with his tongue. He'd never tasted a human before, and was surprised at the salty flavor of her tears. Looking at her oddly, he gently passed his elegant fingers across her forehead. "Sleep Erulissë, Sleep." He whispered, then rose to leave.

***************************************

Grace didn't know where she was or what was happening when she opened her eyes again, and it took her a few minutes to focus. She was back in the bedchamber, back in the bed again. The linens had been changed, and while she could tell they were new they were still white, just with a different pattern of embroidery. The same gossamer curtains that hung at the windows had been added around the bed now, and she felt like she was in a little cocoon when she opened her eyes. Unfortunately, it was a cocoon of pain, and her body still felt broken.

Feeling a gentle touch on her shoulder, Grace glanced over to see Nuada sitting beside her. His emerald eyes were locked firmly on hers, and his hands had just passed over her eyes to wake her. "Take a deep breath." Nuada told her firmly, and no sooner could she comply then he grabbed her firmly and pulled her upright in the bed.

The pain hit Grace like a freight train and she screamed, struggling to fight off the nausea and dizziness that threatened to take her. Completely overwhelmed, Grace hurt so bad she was incapable of even speaking for several minutes, just clamping her eyes shut as she fought to breath normally again.

Nuada was still beside her, that pale elegant hand so gentle as he stroked her cheek, willing Grace to relax. He watched intently, hearing her breathing as it eased, seeing the pounding of her heart against her temples as it slowed. When Grace finally calmed, he leaned closer and spoke again. "Erulissë, you will eat, then I will give you some medication to ease your suffering." He told her firmly. "When it has taken hold, you will bathe and let Haldir tend to these wounds."

The firm words weren't requests, they were demands, and Grace knew it. And hearing them, Grace thought of Haldir for the first time that entire day. No matter how fantastic last night might have been, her mind hadn't even made it to pleasure territory today, too consumed by the pain in her body to enjoy reminiscing.

"Medicine please." Her voice pleaded, raw with the pain she was enduring, begging him to end her suffering.

Nodding to her gently, Nuada refused. "You must eat first Erulissë. If not, the pills will make you nauseous. You cannot afford to retch right now." His voice was firm, and Grace knew he meant it. She hadn't eaten in days, and couldn't imagine eating anything now, but whatever it took to get those pain pills, she'd do it.

Rising from the bed, Nuada crossed the room and returned with a tray of food. It was not unlike what he'd brought her before, and Grace instantly blanched at the sight of it, remembering throwing it up when the fever took her. No way in hell she'd eat that again. Frowning desperately, Nuada quickly removed it then impatiently headed for the door. Seeing him disappear, Grace closed her eyes and prayed he came back soon. If she didn't get some relief shortly, she was sure she would die.

"Grace." the deep voice came, requesting her attention. "Open your eyes child." She finally did, knowing from the sound it was Lord Elrond who was now sitting beside her on the bed. His face was creased into the deepest of frowns as he looked over her, seeing the large bloody stain on her shift and the sodden bandages on her neck. "I need to tend these wounds." He told her firmly, and Grace wondered why he was here instead of Haldir.

Shaking her head, Grace reached for his arm remembering what Nuada said. "Nuada . . . bath." The two words were all she could manage, her voice breaking from the pain she was in, but Lord Elrond understood what Grace was telling him.

Laying a gentle hand over hers, he tried to comfort her. "My dearest child, I am sorry for the pain you are in, sorry for the things you must endure. It is not the way of my people to cause others harm." His eyes told her he was being most sincere, and Grace's eyes told him she understood, tears slowly tracing down her cheeks as she met his deep gaze.

"I'm sorry for last night." Grace whispered, her voice broken, raw with the torment of her body. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

Elrond shook his head gently, his face creasing into a slight smile. "I must admit, it had been quite some time since I found myself in the wading pools. The cold water was quite refreshing!" he chuckled softly, and Grace tried to smile back thankful he wasn't angry at her. He quietly continued to sit with her until Nuada returned, an entirely different offering for her this time.

Elrond rose as the blonde warrior drew close with the food and nodded his approval. "Excellent idea," he told Nuada before stepping away, "please get me from the courtyard when she is ready. I shall tend to her wounds tonight." His voice was firm, and Nuada gave him an accepting nod. He didn't care who tended to Grace so long as the wounds got treated.

Far away in the halls of Imaldris, Haldir cared, and he was as mad as a wet setting hen. He'd been alone in one of the numerous private gazeboes when the sun rose that morning, a sight the dutiful marchwarden always enjoyed when he was on patrol. Thoughts of Grace were wrapped around his mind, and he was trying to come to terms with the deep need he felt for her. It wasn't love, wasn't infatuation, it was need - pure overwhelming need.

Elrond had been out walking as was his custom first thing in the morning, and the two had accidentally crossed paths. The elf lord knew immediately what had taken place the night before, it was glaringly obvious in the pure glow Haldir was giving off, and Elrond couldn't suppress a smile and a soft chuckle. He didn't fault the elf, not one bit. He knew Haldir's story, and it was a somewhat sad one. His parents were killed when he was young, and he'd raised his two brothers alone. All three had become marchwardens, Haldir being General of the Guard, while Orophin and Rumil served directly under him. He'd never allowed himself to experience love, only duty, and he was as devoted to his duties as any ruler could ask. Perhaps it would be good for the elf to expand his horizons somewhat . . .

Considering that, Elrond sat with Haldir for a few moments, touching his mind as he did. What he found there shocked even him, and he knew Haldir needed something else entirely. He needed protection from that human he was housing in his corner bedchamber. She had all but possessed Haldir's very soul during the night, and she was consuming him even as he sat there, the blood bond erasing the distance between them. Thoughts of her overwhelmed him, making his very blood boil at the thought of holding her again, and Elrond knew this was something very dangerous indeed. If Haldir was to survive this experience, he needed to stay away from Grace, at least for a while. Although it made the marchwarden absolutely furious, Elrond informed him he would tend to Grace that day. Haldir was not to set foot anywhere near her before noon tomorrow, he commanded it.

***************************************

Placing the tray in front of Grace, Nuada watched her carefully. His mind had been working over the situation facing him throughout the night, and he had decided how this was going to work. Grace was now officially no more than an annoying inconvenient sibling, one that had to be tolerated and cared for, but not liked or loved. Seeing her in such pain had already shaken his resolve to stick with those ideas, but he was determined that was how it would be.

Right now his new ward was staring oddly at the plate he'd placed in front of her, wondering what on earth this unusual food was. He'd brought her a piece of lembas. The food was an elven specialty – a very thin baked cake with a slightly sweet bland taste. It only took a small bite to last a man the entire day, and surely she could manage a nibble. Nuada watched her intently as Grace obligingly took a bite. It was simple and inoffensive to her taste buds, and Grace swallowed the small piece with no problems, washing it down with the cool water he'd brought to go with it.

Seeing it slowly begin to disappear, Nuada smiled with relief. This was great progress, and after a few more bites, he produced the bottle of pain medicine from his pocket. Lord Niall owned a pharmaceutical company, so Nuada had access to any medication known to man, and quite a few that weren't. He'd brought something strong enough to stop the pain without putting her in a drug induced coma, and was positive her pain would be eased very soon.

Thrilled at the sight of the two small white oval shaped pills, Grace swallowed them instantly. Her eyes showed her gratitude as Nuada gently patted her arm, then took the tray and disappeared again. It was about fifteen minutes before he came back, and by that time Grace could feel the growing numbness in her limbs. She didn't know what he'd given her, but it was some powerful stuff!

"Come Erulissë, time for your bath." He told her firmly, gently assisting as Grace gingerly eased toward the edge of the bed. Nuada was very careful to support her as she steadied herself, and once her feet were under her, he carefully led her down the hall to the bathroom.

As they came inside, Grace was shocked at the sight in front of her. Not only was the gigantic tub filled with steaming hot water, her suitcase was sitting on the cabinet across from it, and all of her bath items were laid out just waiting on her. Grace thought she'd cry with delight when she saw her familiar things, incapable of believing Nuada had managed to do such a thing.

Nuada simply smiled in response to her stunned expression. "Anything for you Erulissë." He told her softly.

Grace stood there for a moment, barely able to contain herself from jumping in that tub of water, waiting rather impatiently for Nuada to leave. He didn't budge, and she gave him an uncertain look. "You planning to stay?" she asked, her voice questioning with a slight edge of fear in it.

"I am." He told her firmly, and Grace thought she'd die.

"You absolutely can not be serious!" she growled out furiously, even though she was having to cling to the cabinet for support. "There is no way in hell you are gonna watch me take a bath!"

That arrogant creature simply raised his eyebrows and stared at her, completely unconcerned at her discomfort. "I do not intend to watch, I intend to help! You are filthy . . . bloody and disgusting . . . and the scent of Haldir clings to every pore on you. You need help to bathe, and I intend to provide it."

Grace looked at him like she honestly wanted to kill him, instantly flaming in the bright light of the bathroom, the brilliant sunlight pouring through the open windows only making her that much brighter. "In your dreams." She hissed, but Nuada only stepped closer to her.

"Undress yourself, or I'll cut them off." Nuada told her firmly, his voice low and even as he stared at her. He wasn't asking, and he wasn't threatening – he was simply telling her what was going to happen.

Staring at him in stunned disbelief, Grace wondering if he was serious, but had the terrible feeling that he was from that dangerous glimmer in his eyes. Crossing her arms across her chest, Grace simply stood there and stared back at him. If he wanted her clothes taken off in front of him, he'd damn well cut them off, because she wasn't performing some sick private strip tease for this arrogant bastard.

Glaring at her determined little human form, Nuada impatiently began to drum his fingers on the top of the cabinet. Grace could tell his patience was fading, and wondered what he really intended to do to her if she refused. No sooner had that thought crossed her mind, than she found herself being unceremoniously swept off her feet and gently placed in the tub clothes and all. Water went everywhere, including all over the floor and Nuada but she didn't give a shit. She was furious and flamed hot enough to nearly boil the water in the tub.

"You fucking bastard!" she seethed at him, knowing she was going to have to remove the wet sift that was now threatening to drown her. "I'm not taking this gown off in front of you, and I'm not washing in front of you either!"

He simply laughed at her, a deep evil laugh that touched on being a growl. "Very well Erulissë. As I told you, I intend to do it for you!"

Grace sat in that water staring in complete amazement as Nuada quietly began to pull his shirt over his head and slipped his feet from his boots. That damn man intended to strip and get in that tub with her, and there wasn't a single thing she could do about it! Now, bath water is not typically viewed as a source of torture, but for Grace it certainly was, and she had no idea how she survived. While her modesty had waned to a point, it certainly reasserted itself when Nuada calmly took off his clothes and climbed in that tub. Feeling the heat from her flaming cheeks, Grace turned her back, clamped her eyes shut and stayed that way. The tub was huge and very deep and Grace worked her way to the farthest corner, desperate to stay as far away from him as possible.

Nuada was having none of it. Her guardian carefully took hold of her, and simply pulled her bare body right across that slick stone to meet him. Paralyzed by fear, Grace found little relief even when she identified the body part touching her as his leg, and her very breath threatened to stop coming when Nuada slowly ran those porcelain hands around her body and carefully removed that sopping gown.

The sharp intake of his breath made her nauseous, and Grace burned with fury knowing those startling green eyes were taking in the scarred skin that covered her back for the first time. If Grace wanted to show him the evidence of her past miseries, she'd have done it. Instead he forced her into this and completely humiliated her. No words were spoken, but Grace could tell it had shaken him, and it horrified her to think how much she disgusted the beautiful man sitting behind her.

That horror only grew, when Nuada took her body wash and did just that . . . he washed her body. Gentle, but alarmingly thorough, that blonde haired warrior put the cloth in his hands on almost every inch of her flesh before it was over and Grace was trapped between wanting to kill him and wanting to die. Just so one of them didn't get out of the tub alive, she'd be satisfied. Grace made only one other attempt to curse at him, and he'd stopped her instantly.

Clamping his hand over her mouth, Nuada's elegant fingers provided just enough pressure to remind Grace how bruised and swollen her mouth was. "Never think there is anything disgusting about you Erulissë outside of your foul little mouth." He told her softly, his mouth right at her ear, his tone soft and low.

Knowing better than to respond, Grace's remained silent but her body remained attentive. Every touch of his hands stoked the anger and desire in her, and her body trembled by the time those hands made their way to her hair. Finding a cup of water unceremoniously dumped over her head, Grace endured the odd sensation of Nuada's fingertips against every speck of her scalp, and she wondered what would come next.

"Lean your head back so I can rinse the soap out." The strange voice commanded, yet Grace didn't budge.

"Erulissë . . ." the threatening voice continued, "I swear, if you do not do what I ask of you I will force you."

Shaking with fury, Grace flipped around in an instant. A caged tiger held no more pent up anger than she did, and the water that splashed all over Nuada in the process was little consolation to the things she was being forced to endure.

That southern drawl was rapt with fury as she spoke, and both her voice and her eyes left Nuada with little doubt what she thought of him at that very moment. "I can't lean my head back you fucking asshole! Are you just stupid, or can't you see that big damn hole in it?"

Grace was nose to nose with Nuada, her lack of apparel completely forgotten in her anger. Thankfully, the soap had clouded the water by then, and the only parts of them visible were their shoulders and their heads, but Grace really didn't give a flying shit. She just wanted Nuada to know how much she despised him and what he was doing.

Startled by both her words and her anger, Nuada froze. Slowly, that vicious glitter in those odd green eyes softened as he realized Grace was telling the truth. Only moments before, he'd removed the blood soaked bandages from her shoulder and it looked truly horrible . . . possibly even infected. Frowning terribly, Nuada shook his head softly in disgust. The guardian knew he should not be treating her this way.

"Turn back around Erulissë." He told her gently, and after one more venomous glare, she complied.

Ever so gently, Nuada pulled Grace back until her body rested firmly against his chest, her scars pressing against rippling muscles and bone. A porcelain arm of steel carefully came to surround her shoulders, and as Nuada carefully eased himself back against the side of the tub, he took her with him.

Grace was trying desperately not to acknowledge the fact that his completely naked body was now pressed firmly against the backside of hers, but she was painfully aware that not so much as a thought separated them. In order not to hurt herself, Grace was forced to relax and rest herself against him, and Nuada took advantage of this new angle, ever so carefully rinsing the soap from her hair, making sure not even one tiny bubble went near her face or eyes. When the water stopped flowing, Grace immediately struggled to get up, but the arm clamped around her shoulders was unyielding, and Nuada kept her right there.

Taking the conditioner, Nuada repeated his torturous scalp massage and rinsing, and Grace barely drew a breath before he was finished. Satisfied with her hair, Nuada continued to hold her tightly pressed against him, even though Grace was willing him to release her with everything she had. Her thoughts nearly burned his mind she wanted away from him so badly, but Nuada responded by doing the exact opposite. In addition to the arm firmly clamped just above her breasts, Grace found a second one planted around her waist right on her hipbones.

"Now that I have your attention," Nuada began speaking softly, "I hope you understand that I do not like to be ignored Erulissë. I ask very little of you, save that you respect me. I will never bring harm to you, but I expect the same from you in return."

His mouth was nearly touching her, the softly spoken words running warm breath over her ear, and while Grace understood them for the thinly veiled threat that they were, she said nothing. The almost imperceptible tightening of his grip told Grace he was waiting for an acknowledgement, and when Grace began to turn around he allowed it. Turning around with the sole intention of telling him to go straight to hell, Grace was stunning when her eyes ran over his face under the bright light. There were terrible, angry marks across what she knew was once perfect porcelain flesh, and Grace suddenly remembered how severely injured Nuada was the previous night. The darkness in combination with her blindness hid his wounds, and her pain had diverted her attentions until now.

Running huge grey eyes over him, Grace realized Nuada was truly a magnificent being, even with a scowl on his face, and half of that golden hair shimmering in the sun and half of it hanging limp in the water. Something so beautiful should not be covered in angry red marks where a blade had torn his flesh, and suddenly the need to heal him far outweighed the need to hurl profanity.

Ever so delicately, those small tanned fingers began to trace one cut at a time, her touch so warm and gentle, the blue flames dancing as every scar was erased, leaving only perfection in return. That striking face was first, her touch flowing from his forehead to his nose, then his chin. Broad shoulders were softly caressed as Grace carefully traced the indentions left from the horrible cuts the night before. She'd closed them last night, but angry red welts and grooves remained where the cuts had been, no doubt reflecting the damaged state she herself was in when she healed him.

Much taller than Grace, there was much more of Nuada out of the water than Grace. Several marks were easy to see above the waterline, and Grace carefully ran her hands over and over them, not satisfied until they completely disappeared. There were others under that water, and Nuada couldn't help the strange look that came over his face as her hands slipped below his ribcage, exploring his stomach and even slightly lower. Grace did not need to see the wounds to repair them. She could clearly feel them as her fingers stroked his flesh. The last wound garnered the most attention. Nuada took a severe cut right across his hipbone, and by the time Grace ran her hand across that sensitive flesh the fourth time, the creature in that tub had to admit he was thinking about the little human in an entirely different way.

Goose bumps littered his flesh by the time Grace finished, and Nuada was trembling from her touch. Hundreds - probably thousands - of women had touched Nuada during his lifetime, but none had the effect Grace was having. Entirely focused on his healing, his reaction gathered no attention from the human. Grace didn't seem to care if she made him tremble or not. When the warm gentle fingers were removed from his flesh, Nuada found that he instantly missed her touch, and it shocked him.

"Are there more?" Grace asked him softly, and Nuada could only shake his head in reply. No.

"Then get out." She growled out coldly, her compassion instantly gone and the burning hatred returned. "I don't like to be threatened, I don't like to be looked at without permission and I don't need an audience while I shave my legs."

The glitter of anger had returned to those green eyes when they met her hateful grey glare, but Nuada relented. Judging from the look in her eyes, and that scowl on her face, he'd pushed Grace far enough. Feeling the pounding of his own heart, and the tightening in his groin, Nuada knew Grace was pushing him a little too far as well. He laughed softly to himself as he began to rise from the water, seeing her embarrassment as she instantly turned away and clamped her hands over her eyes. Lingering over the replacement of his clothes, Nuada enjoyed the slight peeks she passed his way to check his progress, and he smiled at her when Grace finally took her hands away to glare at him.

"Finish. Get dressed, and come back to the room. You still need that wound tended." They were commands, not requests, and Grace didn't answer them, deciding it was best to completely ignore Nuada as he left. She could hear that strange soft laughter in the corridor as he walked away, and she was relieved to finally be alone. Normal things brought the utmost pleasure, and Grace couldn't have been more thrilled when she pulled on her simple shorts and tank top, fixed her hair the way she liked it, then brushed her teeth three times. Completely satisfied, she gingerly made her way back to the room pulling the little suitcase behind her, shoving it under the bed with her foot once she got there.

The room was empty, but Grace knew that was an illusion. One of the others was always lurking close by, and just as expected, Lord Elrond appeared with a variety of ointments and bandages, silently going to work on her shoulder. It was nasty and hurt like hell, but Grace did feel better when the patient elven healer was finished. The elf lord offered a polite nod and gentle pat before disappearing, and Grace wondered what she should do now and where Haldir was. That thought was interrupted when Nuada reappeared with some new bottle of medicine and silently handed her one of them along with some water. Grace swallowed it, but didn't say one word to the creature who recently tormented her so.

Looking at her uncertainly, Nuada reached a careful hand toward her, but Grace slid away from him instantly. "Get your damn hands off me!" she hissed violently, and he frowned.

Nuada knew he should never have made Grace take that bath earlier, but the smell of Haldir on her skin was disgusting and he wanted it off. Emerald green eyes cut at her hard enough to split diamonds, but he said nothing, simply stood there for a moment considering her. His entire body was tensed in anger, but her guardian managed to control himself.

"My apologies, Erulissë," he offered flatly, before quickly turning to walk away.

***************************************

It was several hours later than Nuada reappeared, this time in the parking lot of Fangtasia. The stunning blonde had taken a complete shower and redressed himself in black dress pants and a black button up silk shirt. He looked like a Greek God when he walked through the front door of that vampire bar, and Pam felt herself get weak in the knees when he walked past. Unfortunately, Nuada was here for business not pleasure, and didn't even give the pretty blonde vampire a passing glance.

Heading straight for Eric, Nuada stopped when the striking blonde vampire met him partway across the floor. "We need to talk." Nuada told him firmly, and Eric inclined his head slightly.

They had spent some time together since this whole thing started, Nuada stopping by for a few hours here and there. The two warriors had a lot in common, and Eric liked him for some reason. Finally he'd found someone he could talk to, someone who was actually older than he was, and it was unusually pleasant.

Hearing the office door snap shut behind him, Nuada slipped to sit in one of the chairs as Eric went round behind the desk to assume his usual position, chair leaned back, feet up on the corner. "What's up my friend?" Eric asked, his cool blue eyes knowing there was a lot of turmoil hidden just beneath Nuada's extremely calm exterior. The tension in him was so strong that night the air around him seemed to vibrate.

"I need to tell you about the past few days," Nuada began, "and we need to talk about Sookie and Erulissë." Eric frowned slightly, and took his feet off the desk. This was obviously something very important, and he sat forward in the chair, his face completely blank as he began to listen intently.

Eric face looked entirely different fifteen minutes later when Nuada stopped talking. The ancient vampire thought he was beyond being shocked, but he was wrong. The things Nuada just shared shook him to his very core, and Eric wasn't even able to look at Nuada. His eyes were trained on the floor, his mind far, far away. The things he just learned about Grace concerned and intrigued him, but the things Niall had planned for Sookie terrified him. Eric loved that pretty blonde waitress, and while the prospect of her living for the next several hundred years was wonderful, what Niall might do to her to make that happen wasn't. What if he put some fae essence in her and she started going crazy? That seemed like a valid concern considering what Nuada had been telling him about Grace.

"You have time to decide." Nuada told him quietly. "The fae do not pass on often, and a very powerful one will have to fall for this to happen. Weigh your feelings. In the meantime, speak to her if you believe she would accept such a conversation. If the time comes, I do everything in my power to help you whatever you decide." Nuada's glowing green eyes told Eric he was telling him the truth, and Eric believed his friend. Friend – that wasn't something he'd called someone in nearly a thousand years, but he did truly believe he had found a friend in Nuada.

"Thank you." Eric told him sincerely. "I'll consider your words carefully. Now, what of Grace? When is Niall planning to do this to her? Are you bringing her back here anytime soon . . . where are you going to put her?"

Nuada frowned at his questions. He had no idea. "I do not know. I have many things to consider myself."

Eric gave Nuada a sympathetic look. "If you don't want the human girl, why don't you just give her to that elf?" he suggested brightly. "They're immortal . . . he'll live longer than she will and he can look after her. Does he want Grace?"

Nuada gave Eric a strange look, but then realized what he'd said was true. The elves might very well want to keep Grace for themselves . . .   
After Nuada left, Grace found herself tormented by thoughts of the strange man. Her reaction at being so close to him disturbed her, and Grace could still imagine the feeling of his skin under her fingertips. Unable to rest, she came out of the bedchamber shortly after Nuada did, deciding a walk would clear her head. Deeply engrossed in the study of a pink rosebush, Grace was standing barefoot in the midst of the heavily damaged rose garden she nearly destroyed the past evening when Gandalf joined her.

"Grace, would you do me the honor of joining me for an evening stroll?" The kindly wizard asked. His gentle face was smiling at Grace when she looked up, and she smiled in return, half numb from the pain medicine Nuada gave her.

"I will." She told him softly, allowing him to gently grasp her arm. The imposing man began guiding Grace toward the far end of the stunning floral oasis surrounding them, and Grace was curious to see where they were going.

While the wizard looked very old, he seemed in perfect health and walked like a young man, careful to pace himself to the much shorter woman by his side. "I am sure you have many questions dear Pinilyaer. I was hoping to answer some of them for you".

Gandalf was carefully steering Grace down one of the many soft dirt paths, delighting her when they emerged in front of a secluded gazebo hidden in the midst of a ridiculous amount of luscious landscaping. Grace had said nothing, just walked along quietly beside him until they reached their destination. Now stepping up the two wooden stairs that led into the huge gazebo, Grace found herself enthralled at the skill that went into building the intricate structure. No person on earth could do such things with stone and wood. She was still staring as she gingerly lowered herself onto one of the plump sage green cushions that covered the seats, and waited for Gandalf to join her.

This was a man of great wisdom and if anyone could tell her what was going on around here, she was positive it was him. Once they were both comfortably settled, he began speaking to her. "My dear child, surely you are disturbed by the events of the past several days. Might I offer you any guidance?"

Grace frowned terribly at his words, and the memory of bring thrown off the cliff. "Who was the man on the cliff yesterday?" her voice becoming quite sad as she spoke. "Why did he try to kill me?"

A terrible frown took over Gandalf's face as he studied Grace. That wasn't a question he necessarily wanted to answer, but obviously she would ask it. "Dearest Pinilyaer, that was your true grandfather. His name was Dermot, and I am most saddened to tell you that he was fallen yesterday by Nuada's hand."

Grace froze at those words. Nuada had killed her own grandfather to protect her? "Why?" her broken voice demanded as tears began to slip down her face. "What is wrong with me that he wanted me to die?"

Reaching a comforting hand to her, Gandalf patted her gently on the arm. "Blessed little one, Dermot was a very dark soul. The events of the past evening were most unfortunate, but trust my words that there is absolutely nothing wrong with you!"

Grace hung her head, devastated by his words, her heart pounding as she thought about how lucky she was to still be alive. Yet, she had caused the death of someone else, and it was a horrible thought. "What have I become? Am I some terrible thing that needs to die?" Her voice was strained as she spoke, her mind tormented by all these strange things she suddenly seemed able to do since coming to this place.

Even with all of his magical knowledge, Gandalf didn't know exactly what she had become, and he could only give her a sympathetic look. She was a walking supernatural cocktail that had never existed before. "You are a gift." He finally told her firmly. "You are a gift to all of us. One who has been given the most beloved ability to heal and we are here to help you accept that power and learn to wield it. It will take time, and it will be difficult, yet I know you shall master it! Until then, you shall have to be very cautious little one . . . you can be quite dangerous at times, as you know yourself from last evening."

Grace stared at the ground and considered his words. She didn't feel like a gift, more like a curse, and she didn't want the power of healing – she just wanted her boring life back! Her mind was working furiously, and she thought of her next question. "Why did Haldir hold me down for a vampire to bite me again?"

Gandalf froze at that question. He assumed Elrond or Niall had explained that situation to her, yet with all the commotion of yesterday obviously no one had! "That was a necessary action, I am afraid," Gandalf told her with a frown, "your blood had become poisoned, and it was the only way to safely remove it. You are most fortunate that Haldir was capable of giving his blood to you. His gift has restored your life twice, and Elrond and I agree that you should return to full health with time."

Grace felt her heart freeze in her chest at his words, the memories of Haldir holding her down returning to her with a vengeance. "What did that blood do to me? Am I ever going to be normal again?" Her voice was little more than a whisper because she was afraid to hear the answer. Since all this happened she felt strange all the time, and her skin was constantly turning blue . . . she felt like the newest addition to a circus side show, and she wanted somebody to tell her this was going to stop, she was going to be normal again.

Taking a deep breath, Gandalf wondered how to answer those questions, positive normal in Rivendell had an entirely different meaning than normal on earth. "I cannot answer your questions child." He finally told her honestly. "There is not such thing as normal really is there? Are we not all normal to someone, somewhere? The only thing that matters is that you are alive and that we have been allowed the pleasure of your company. I see these as only things to be thankful for."

Grace sure as hell didn't agree with that statement, but she kept her mouth shut. He didn't answer her question, and she had all ideas he really didn't know. She was a freak of nature that even this super white wizard couldn't explain, and it was the most horrible and depressing thing Grace could imagine. Gandalf was patient and understanding, and could sense the great turmoil within her. He did not press her to speak further, deciding time was what she needed most.

Time was what Grace got too, time alone for the first time since she got there. The pain pills Nuada gave her worked a little too well, erasing the pain from her body completely and she walked all over that beautiful place after Gandalf left her. Now it was the middle of the night, and she was lost down one of the hundreds if not thousands of paths running tracing through that valley. Her pain had returned with a vengeance, and her anger at being trapped here had returned with a vengeance too.

Nuada had completely humiliated her earlier that day in the bathroom, the vision of Haldir holding her down for the vampire kept running through her mind over and over again, and Grace could almost feel the air rushing up at her as she remembered being thrown off the cliffs.

Grace didn't know how far she'd walked, but it was the darkest night she could imagine, the moon's light completely obscured by heavy dark clouds, and she had no idea how to make her way back. Sliding to the ground against a huge tree, Grace wrapped her arms around herself and began to cry. This was a beautiful, lonely place, and she didn't know what she'd ever done to deserve being brought here. As she sat there, the first raindrops began to fall, and soon a steady cold rain was pouring down. Easing back farther, Grace pushed her way underneath a huge plant of some type, relieved it wasn't the same horrible thing she'd landed in the night before. She wondered where Haldir was, where Nuada was, and why no one came for her. The plant offered the tiniest bit of protection, and she sat huddled there shivering, she prayed that God would have mercy on her.


	10. Cousins

Chapter 10 - Cousins

In Bon Temps, Sookie was praying for God to have mercy on her too. She didn't have any experimental pain medication to take, but if she did have a bottle, she'd certainly have swallowed a few. Since seeing Grace at Eric's house, the connection with her cousin had tormented her. She could feel every single thing that Grace did, and obviously the girl's life was a living hell. Grace was mirroring back to her cousin mentally, and Sookie could hardly handle the images and feelings coming at her.

Thankfully, she'd been off the past few days, but if this kept up she was gonna have to call in sick. Sookie felt like she'd been run over, she had the worst headache she'd ever had, and now she was freezing cold. No matter what she did, she could not get warm. Struggling to get up off the couch, she finally decided she had to do something . . . if she stayed like this much longer, she wondered if she'd survive it.

Whatever strange ailment Sookie was trying to survive, even Eric's blood wasn't helping. Her powerful vampire boyfriend came to see her late last night after Nuada left Fangtasia, and found her in a terrible state. Worried already by the strange conversation he'd just had, he offered her a few drops of blood, knowing it would cure whatever ailment was tormenting the woman he cared so deeply for. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have any effect, and Eric had been devastated when he left around four that morning.

Heading to her purse, Sookie dug around for a moment, then pulled out the ivory parchment business card. It was Niall's phone number. He'd given it to her on their first visit. She'd never used it – not once – but today was going to be the day. Dialing the numbers, she heard the strange soft male voice that answered, and she made her demand. Niall was to come see her as soon as possible – something was wrong and she needed him. Hanging up, she hoped he came and soon, then headed to the shower.

Thankfully, Niall was waiting for her in the den of the big old white farmhouse when Sookie came out of her bedroom. Walking down the hall, she was just twisting her hair into its typical ponytail when he rose to greet her. Sookie had never phoned Niall before, and he was deeply concerned, the severe frown creasing his delicately wrinkled skin as he studied her. "What is wrong my child? What might I do for you this day?" his melodic voice was rapt with concern, and Sookie's matched it. .

"I know this is gonna sound stupid, but I need you to take me to Grace." She told him firmly, seeing the obvious shock come across his face when she did.

"Grace? What do you want with Grace?" He demanded, completely confused by her request to see her cousin.

"She's in trouble. I can feel her, and she's in a terrible way. I need to get to her – I need to help her great-grandfather. Please do this for me, she needs me." Sookie was adamant, her hands waving around in front of her as she spoke, her eyes wide and intent as she stared up at him. "If you love me - if you love her - then please take me to her now."

Niall frowned even deeper, if that was possible. "You shall need shoes, and I shall tell you now . . . the place we are going to is like none on earth." He was trying to warn her to be prepared, and he hoped she listened. Grace was immune to the effects of Rivendell, but Sookie would not be. The elves all communicated telepathically, it was their way, and it seemed the very air in Rivendell was filled with tiny connectors that allowed these thoughts to slide silently between them.

Here on earth, Sookie was the only one of her type – an oddity, a novelty, and something very frightening to most people. At Imladris, she would be quite average, actually quite below average in her skills and he hoped the sudden connection her mind was about to get wouldn't overwhelm her fragile human nature. Quickly going to her bedroom, Sookie returned after slipping on her tennis shoes, dressed in her typical clothes she always wore – the simple jean shorts and t-shirt falling well short of Niall's approval, but he said nothing about it.

"Close you eyes child." He told her firmly as he grasped her arm, and when she took her next breath, she instantly knew she was somewhere else entirely. Opening her eyes, she stared in disbelief at the scene stretched out before her, completely unable to comprehend the beauty of the mountain valley she now stood in. Niall brought her to the terrace on the southern end of Imladris where Elrond and Gandalf preferred to take tea. It was mid-morning, and they were sitting there as was their habit, along with Nuada and Haldir when the two newcomers appeared, and Sookie was as shocked at the sight of them as they were her.

Nuada remembered her, but Haldir didn't. He'd been so focused on Grace at Eric's house, he couldn't tell you one thing about anyone or anything there. For a moment no one spoke, then Nuada broke the silence. "Well Sookie, imagine seeing you here." His voice was touched with sarcasm, and it earned him an immediate warning glare from Niall. He'd tolerated enough of Nuada's mouth the night before – there would be no repeat this day.

Rising from their seats in unison, the elves and wizard all inclined their heads to Sookie in greeting, and she had no idea what to do. Finally, she just nodded back, feeling like a complete idiot with her "holy shit" fake smile she was so famous for firmly stretched across her face. She found herself instantly attracted to Haldir, somehow aware of the intimate talents he'd shared with Grace two nights before. Her intent stare made him blush instantly, and his deep blue eyes hit the smooth patio stones immediately when he saw the way she was looking at him. It made Elrond smile slightly, the idea of Haldir being manipulated by these two human women an obvious source of delight to him.

"Welcome to my home Sookie." Elrond told her grandly, sweeping his arms out beside him. "This is Imladris." Sookie didn't know about that strange word he called it, but it was certainly the most impressive thing she'd ever seen – even in a book.

"It's remarkable." She said softly, and Elrond could tell she was in some mild state of shock.

Sliding his eyes over Sookie then to his brother, Elrond wondered what possessed him to bring a second human woman to his world. The one that was already here was causing enough problems! "Brother, I was not expecting you to bring us a guest this morning." He said carefully, and Sookie knew instantly he was not pleased to see her there. Easing closer to Niall, she clung to his arm, suddenly afraid of these strange men that surrounded her.

Niall patted her hand gently. "Fear not Sookie. No one here means you any harm child." She breathed a little easier, but it didn't stop her heart from pounding in her chest. "She wishes to see Grace. I assume there is no problem meeting her request?" his firm voice left Sookie with no doubt she would get to see Grace, and if anyone tried to stop that from happening, they'd be very sorry. Smiling to herself, she remembered that having a Fairy Lord for a great-grandfather did have its perks from time to time!

Haldir rose from his chair immediately, coming to stand in front of Sookie, and inclining his head to her yet again. "If you will follow me please . . ." Sookie looked at him uncertainly, but was positive it was safe, and silently followed Haldir. He slowly led her across the terrace, up to the balcony and then into the huge bedchamber. At first, Sookie just looked around. It was the most amazing bedroom she'd ever seen, the handcarved light wood furniture was amazing, and everything seemed to glow!

Turning to the bed, Sookie saw it was empty, and turned a concerned face toward Haldir. "Where is she? Where's Grace?" His face was creased in a huge frown, and he was looking around uncertainly himself. Grace was not there. He stared at the bed, taking in the untouched glass of water and pill Nuada left there last evening . . . she hadn't been here all night!

Tearing past Sookie, Haldir was back on the terrace in seconds. "She's gone!" he exclaimed. "Grace is gone!" Everyone was on their feet instantly, and Sookie rushed out of the room as well.

Standing on the balcony with her hands on her hips, she stared down at the group of men on the terrace in amazement. How in hell could they lose her cousin? Suddenly furious, Sookie completely forgot about where she was, or anything else as she stalked her way back to the courtyard table. "You lost her?" she nearly yelled at Haldir. "You lost my cousin?"

Haldir turned to her, shocked that yet another little human woman was yelling at him, his expression somewhere between frustration and anger. Sookie just glared at him, then flipped around to Nuada. She'd talked to him before, and she knew he was supposed to be Grace's guardian. Obviously, he wasn't very good at it because Claudine certainly hadn't ever lost her before! "And you Nuada? Where the hell were you to let this happen? In Fangtasia with Eric again?"

Emerald eyes narrowed in fury at her accusation, but Nuada didn't answer, simply brushing past her as he stormed up to the room. He was linked to Grace, and so was Haldir. If something terrible was wrong with her, they should have known. Unfortunately, that double bond Grace had with the two of them was causing a lot of problems.

Under that bush, Grace felt like she was being torn in half. Her blood boiled for Haldir, so hot she could feel it under her skin, yet her aura – her essence – her very soul yearned for Nuada so bad it felt like it was going to crawl out of her and go get him. Grace couldn't focus, couldn't breath, couldn't do anything and in conjunction with the emotional and physical pain she felt it was completely overwhelming. Laying under the giant swath of rapidly dying greenery, Grace was holding her head and praying for this all to stop, and that inner turmoil was keeping either man from getting a good read on her.

Now standing in her room, Nuada looked around. Haldir was correct. Grace was gone, and he had no idea where. Coming onto the balcony, the others quickly joined him, and Gandalf was horrified. He was the last one with the child! He'd left her alone in the gazebo! Haldir and Nuada tore for the gazebo, Elrond assuring Gandalf she was probably asleep there. She wasn't, and the two elves began to panic. Both of them were linked to her, yet they had absolutely no idea where she was.

Standing on the balcony, Sookie was furious. She'd known something was terribly wrong with Grace, and those fear were now verified. As Niall expected, her mind powers increased dramatically as soon as Sookie appeared here, and she could all but feel Grace breathing. Not allowing herself the luxury of being awed by her new surroundings, the pretty blonde simply walked off. She didn't know where she was going, or how she was to get there, but Sookie knew where Grace was and she was gonna go get her.

Elrond watched her walk away, but quickly caught up to her . . . perhaps this human girl could find Grace. Silently joining her, he said nothing, allowing her to focus completely on finding the girl. He was reading her mind as they walked, and he was shocked at how strongly the two were linked. Obviously their shared fea blood had given them an unusually strong mental bond! They walked for a good while, winding here and there through the various paths, until finally Sookie stopped. They were at the intersection of several paths, a large open circle of flattened dirt surrounded by huge trees and giant bushes. "She's here somewhere!" she told him, immediately starting to dig through the bushes. "Grace! Grace!" she called desperately, praying she'd get an answer.

Royalty forgotten, Elrond went right in with Sookie, anxiously pulling up giant leaves and folding back branches until he finally spotted Grace. The nearly dead bush should have been a certain give away, and under it's wilted branches the fragile human girl was in much worse shape than the plant. Soaking wet and shaking violently, muddy grass and leaves covered her, and that horrible neck wound was bleeding heavily.

Horrified by her condition, Elrond reached to touch her, but Grace instantly opened her eyes and jerked away. "Get away from me! Get away from me!" she repeated over and over again, and Elrond wasn't sure how to comfort her.

Quickly kneeling beside her, the compassionate elf lord gently pulled her from under the bush and into his arms. "Quiet child. We shall figure this out, and all will be well, I promise you." Grace said nothing, simply clung to him and cried, completely oblivious to the fact that she was ruining the royal robes of the Elf Lord of Rivendell.

Elrond couldn't care less about such things, only the condition of this obviously devastated human being in front of him concerned him. "Speak to me child. Tell me what I may do to comfort you." Elrond gently commanded. His eyes were intent on her as he spoke, yet his voice was kind and Grace knew his concern was genuine.

"I'm going to die." She whispered. "I feel like I'm being torn in half."

Elrond frowned desperately. He and Gandalf discussed this possibility, what this strange combination of elf and fairy might do to a fragile human, and her reaction was not a complete surprise. Elrond expected such, and Niall should have too. Rising to his feet, he simply lifted Grace into his arms and carried her back toward the building. Sookie was following him closely, and felt a small sense of relief when they were back on the balcony of the enormous structure. Gandalf had been searching nearby, and quickly joined them.

"She must be cleaned and warmed!" Elrond ordered, walking directly through the bedchamber to the bathroom down the corridor. Sookie followed, surprised at the genuine concern these two strange men were showing her cousin. Gandalf began running the tub as Elrond sat Grace gently on the floor. This was the last place she wanted to be with any man, and Grace instantly began to panic. It got worse, when Haldir and Nuada realized she'd been found and came in the bathroom too.

Now there were two humans women and four men stuffed in there, Niall the only one with enough common decency to stay out. Grace fell into a complete state of terror when Nuada came in and immediately tried to hide behind Elrond. The elf lord looked at her oddly, then saw Sookie bristling at him as well. Sensing an obvious problem, he reached out with his mind, joining Sookie as they read Grace's thoughts, clearing sensing her lingering torment over that previous bath. Both of them turned on Nuada simultaneously. "Get out!"

"Get Out!" Elrond ordered again, and even Gandalf went for the door. Glaring at Haldir and Nuada, he took a step toward them. "Both of you! Get out - Get away from her now!" That elf wasn't kidding, and the two men scattered. Once they were gone, Grace quieted a little, and Elrond crouched beside her. "I promise you child, no one shall bring you further harm so long as you remain within these walls. You have my word." Grace looked up at him, her huge grey eyes swimming with tears and fear, positive she could believe him.

He patted her reassuringly, then turned to Sookie. "Would you assist her please?" Sookie nodded, yes. She was having a hard time seeing Grace in this condition, not just because her cousin was going through so much, but because she was going through it right along with her.

Elrond rose from the floor, pure fury filling him at the state any creature under his care had been reduced to and headed for the door. There would be strong consequences for the things that had transpired here.

***************************************

Once the room was empty, Grace pulled herself to her feet, barely able to stand she hurt so much and began to painfully take her clothes off. Sookie was beside her in an instant, trying to help her as much as possible, knowing how awkward this was. Putting her hand on a wet, muddy shoulder she smiled at Grace. "Hi Grace. I'm your cousin Sookie."

Grace stared at her for a minute, noticing they looked absolutely nothing alike, and checking to see if Sookie had normal ears or pointed ones. Hearing her thoughts, Sookie laughed. "I'm human! I promise, just like you. Nothing to worry about here!" She was smiling, and Grace felt a little better. Thank god there was one normal human person in this place.

Finally she got her clothes off, and Sookie was shocked at the scars that covered her. She said nothing, ever tactful and careful not to upset her. She held her arm out for support as Grace gingerly climbed into the hot water. There was absolutely nothing in the bathroom by way of soap or anything else, and Sookie looked around for anything to offer her. "My suitcase is under the bed in the room." Grace said softly, and Sookie gave her another beaming smile and headed for the door.

Nuada was in the room when she got there, pacing like a madman. He was beside himself, angry and upset that he'd left her alone and something happened to her. "How is she?" he demanded nervously, his anxiety very obvious in his face and voice.

"Wet." Sookie answered him sarcastically, completely pissed off at the arrogant elf for letting her cousin get into such condition. Eric might speak highly of Nuada, but she sure wasn't impressed.

He glared at her, then stopped himself. If not for Sookie, they wouldn't have found her, and this situation might be a whole lot worse. "Sookie please, I know you are very unhappy with me right now, but please tell me how Erulissë is. I am very sorry for what has happened to her, but you must believe I would never do anything that would bring her harm. What can I do?"

Sookie frowned at Nuada, seeing that his concern was very genuine. "You've got a lot to learn about being a guardian." She told him sarcastically, watching his frown deepen. "Give me her suitcase. She needs her things for the bath." Nuada instantly retrieved it from under the bed, glad for anything he could do no matter how small. Sookie gave him a sympathetic look knowing he was actually quite upset. She had just turned toward the door when he caught her arm.

Stepping to the side table, Nuada retrieved the pill from last night. Taking a bottle from his pocket, he added two more. "Please give her these. They will stop the pain." His eyes were glowing with concern, and Sookie suddenly realized he cared very much what happened to her cousin. She nodded and returned to the bathroom, opening the suitcase and giving Grace everything she needed.

It was quiet and awkward in the bathroom for a few minutes after Grace swallowed her medicine. "I know, this is weird isn't it?" Grace said suddenly, looking over at her.

"Yeah, it is." Sookie answered. Reaching out with her mind, Sookie found that along with everything else, Grace was very nervous about meeting her. Sookie thought back to what her great-grandfather told her about Grace, and looked over the scars clearly visible on her as she sat in the bath water. Obviously, her cousin had been through a lot. Seeing the huge wound that hadn't healed on the side of Grace's neck, she thought back to the night at Eric's house. "You gonna be ok?" she asked gently.

Grace reached up to her neck, wondering how much Sookie knew about what happened to her. She looked at her new found relative uncertainly. "I hope so."

Sookie frowned, seeing how bad those tears in her neck looked. Too bad she couldn't take vampire blood – she'd be healed in a few minutes! "The vampire that helped you is my boyfriend. His name is Eric. That was his house they brought you to the other night. I don't guess you remember . . . you seemed like you were pretty out of it." Sookie was positive Grace wouldn't remember much from that night since she was passed out nearly the entire time. "I don't guess you like vampires much after what happened, huh?" she asked carefully.

Grace looked over at her cousin in complete shock. Her boyfriend was the blonde vampire that sucked her dry the other night? Holy shit! She fought to remain calm as she answered. "I don't know what I think about vampires. To tell you the truth, I don't know what I think about anything right now. I've been through so much the past few days, right now I'm just trying to make it through one hour at the time."

Sookie looked at Grace and knew exactly how she felt. Been there - Done that! "Have they been nice to you? The elves?" Sookie asked, then considered the condition she just found her cousin in. Obviously not! "They are elves, right?" Eric had filled her in on part of Nuada's conversation late last night, and he'd explained where Grace was and who she was with. It had been unbelievable, but now Sookie knew every word of it had been true.

Grace thought about that for a minute. "Gandalf is a wizard, Haldir is an elf and Lord Elrond is half fairy / half elf. He's our great-grandfather's half brother. The good looking blond is Nuada, he's an elf and I got him for a guardian." Grace stopped, wondering if Sookie had a guardian too . . . it seemed so stupid to have someone forced to look after you, like a permanent babysitter!

Sookie sat listening to her cousin. She'd already met Nuada, and boy had Grace had lucked out on that assignment! Nuada was hot enough to make lose your breath every time he walked in the room, and Sookie couldn't imagine having that pop by when you needed help! Haldir was pretty easy on the eyes too, and she couldn't imagine having those lips on hers over and over again either. Damn her cousin was lucky!

"I have a guardian too, a fairy named Claudine." Sookie smiled, she loved Claudine and her twin brother Claude. "She's been around for a while, and she's saved my butt more than once, so I wouldn't be so unhappy about having one." Sookie told Grace seriously. She didn't know what these elves might drag Grace into, but it was anything like her life with the vampires, Grace would need all the help she could get. If not for Claudine, Sookie would already be dead at least twice over.

"Has anyone told you about me?" Sookie asked suddenly.

"No. They haven't talked to me a whole lot about anything. I've had one conversation with Lord Elrond and our great-grandfather, but it was short, sweet and to the point. He said there were three human descendents and one was dead. I got a speech about how important we are, and how wonderful our 'gifts' make us." Grace was sarcastic with that last part, and Sookie smiled, even laughing a little. She had gotten that sermon a few times too.

Sookie could see the tears start to fall, and wondered why that upset Grace so much. "What's wrong Grace? You can talk to me." She tried to reassure her, her voice soft and soothing in the still room.

"My grandfather Dermot came here two nights ago. He tried to kill me . . . he threw me off a cliff." Her voice was torn and broken as she spoke, and the tears continued to fall as she wondered why anyone wanted to kill her.

"Oh sweetie I'm so sorry!" Sookie exclaimed. "What happened? Is that why you're so bruised up?"

Grace just frowned harder. "Nuada killed him." She whispered, reaching to wipe her eyes and then get her razor. "Gandalf said he was horrible and evil and he deserved to die."

Sookie stared at her in disbelief. She didn't know anything about Fintan, the one who was supposed to be her grandfather, but she sure hoped he hadn't been evil! Standing there, she knew she had to talk to Eric as soon as she got home. If any fairies were gonna pop up unexpectedly and come after her, she wanted to be prepared.

"Who saved you?" Sookie asked gently, still wondering how Grace survived being thrown off a cliff.

Grace hesitated. She didn't talk about what she could do. Couldn't stand it in fact. Sookie could feel her confusion, and tried to reassure her. "Did they tell you what I can do?" Sookie asked nervously, wondering if Grace would be scared of her.

"What?" Grace asked casually, shaving her legs again. When Sookie didn't answer, Grace stopped and stared at her. "It can't be worse than me! You tell me about yourself, then I'll tell you about me."

It seemed fair enough, and Sookie finally answered her. Her voice was low and uncertain as she spoke, terrified what Grace would think of her. "I can hear peoples thoughts." Grace had no reaction at all, like her revelation was the most normal thing in the world.

Sookie looked at her, completely floored. "That doesn't bother you?" she blurted out.

Grace just looked at her and shrugged. "No. Does it bother you?"

Sookie gave her a strange look. "It bothers everybody! The people back home think I'm nuts because I can hear what they think! They're scared to death of me, and it drives me crazy!"

Grace gave her a sympathetic look, "Well honey, you'll be right at home in Rivendell, believe me."

Sookie looked at her with a frown. "Why's that?"

Grace stared at her cousin, not believing she didn't already know. "Because they all do it! Every one of them!"

Sookie gave her a strange look. "Do what?" she demanded.

Now Grace was shocked. Obviously Niall didn't tell Sookie much. "Every elf and fairy can hear people's thoughts." Grace explained. "They talk to each other that way all the time."

Sookie looked at her in complete disbelief. She knew their great-grandfather could hear thoughts, but not all of them!! Her eyes were wide as Grace kept talking.

"They've known every single thing about me since I got here, There's no privacy in this place. It's like walking around with a neon sign over my head telling them what I'm thinking."

Sookie looked at her, leaning forward, not believing what she was saying. "You mean every elf and fairy can do the same thing I do? They can hear everything everybody is thinking?"

Grace just looked at her. "Yeah!" The pain pills had kicked in by now, and she would have told Sookie anything. She was completely numb, right up to her brain, and it felt wonderful. Sookie sat in stunned silence, as Grace continued. "They can hear me anywhere, anytime, day or night. When me and Haldir . . ." suddenly she stopped and blushed. Sookie tilted her head and gave her an understanding look, "were together?" Grace burned fire red, staring at the water, "were together . . . he could hear everything I was thinking. It's freaky. I mean, there're just some things you don't want other people to hear."

Sookie leaned back against the cabinet and thought about what Grace said, imagining what it would be like if Eric could hear her thoughts when they were in bed. Oh lord, what an awful thought! "I can't imagine." Sookie finally told Grace, shaking her head, glad she didn't spend much time around elves.

"I guess you'd get used to it after a while, but I sure haven't. They can turn it on and off, but there's no way to know when they're doing it and when they aren't. I'll be glad to get out of this place." Grace was telling Sookie things that she could hardly believe, and Sookie wondered if the elves could teach her to turn herself off sometimes . . . that was her dream, to be able to make it stop sometimes so she could rest.

Sookie's sat there, imagined what Grace had been through. She couldn't imagine, and she still wanted to know if Grace had powers like she did. "Can you hear people too?" she asked her cousin, her eyes big with curiosity.

Grace sat there for a minute wondering if these would be the last sentences she ever said to her cousin, but then she had no idea all the strange things Sookie had seen in the past few years. Stuff she could not even begin to imagine. "No. I have the power to heal people, and I can move things with my mind." She paused, watching Sookie for a reaction, but she didn't get one.

Sookie stared at her. "You serious?" Grace just looked at her, then glanced over at the bottle of shampoo sitting by the tub. Casually she picked it up and guided it over to Sookie, sitting it gently in the cabinet beside her.

Sookie stared at the bottle like it was going to bite her. "Holy Shit! No fucking way!"

Grace gave her with a half smile. "I'm so lucky." She added sarcastically.

"What happens when you do that other stuff? Heal people I mean?" Sookie asked.

Grace looked at her wondering how she'd take this piece of news. "I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh." Grace's voice was very serious, and her frown told Sookie this was not something she wanted to share. She was cringing inside at the idea of sharing her secrets, positive Sookie would think she was insane. Sookie just stared at her. How bad could it be?

"I can honestly heal people. I healed that cut on Haldir's hand, and I healed Nuada after his fight with Dermot . . . he was cut all to pieces, but now he's fine – not even a scar." Sookie looked at Grace with big eyes, thinking how handy that trick could've come in some of the times she'd been hurt, but then Eric had always healed her with his blood. "It a cool thing, but it has it's side effects . . ." she paused, not believing what she was about to say. "I start to turn blue, so if I ever start looking like a smurf around you, get out of the way."

Sookie looked at her for a minute, then put her hands over her mouth and burst out laughing. "I'm so sorry, I can't help it!" she giggled hysterically, "A smurf? Are you serious?" She was still laughing away as Grace smiled at her, finally laughing right along with her.

"A Smurf. Just call me Smurfette! And don't feel bad about laughing, it's better than you running out of this bathroom screaming.

Sookie looked at Grace with a huge smile. "Sweetie, you have no idea what it takes to make me scream at this point!" And she meant it.

They smiled at each other, and the conversation began to flow more easily. Sookie told Grace about shifters and Weres, Merlotte's and Fangtasia, and about Bill and Eric. Grace told Sookie the little she knew about Haldir and Nuada, about Lord Elrond and Gandalf, Rivendell and South Carolina, about the accident, and about being attacked in the parking lot. They'd both been through an awful lot it seemed, and they could trade stories about their strange lives for months on end.

"How did you feel when Niall told you who he was?" Grace finally asked Sookie, drying herself off as she prepared to get dressed. It was one of the most important questions she wanted answered before she left. Sookie answered her instantly. "Weird. I idolized my grandmother. I can't imagine her doing something like that, and I felt bad for my grandfather even though he's dead. How about you?"

Grace looked at her, "I have no idea. I was adopted, but I loved my parents. In some ways it makes sense I guess, but it makes it worse too. I don't know one thing about my real family except my grandfather hated me enough to try to kill me." Grace frowned terribly, pulling on another tank top, and a pair of cargo shorts. She settled down on the edge of the tub, looking over at Sookie. "Tell me about the vampires. They can't all be like the one in that parking lot or you wouldn't date one. What's he like? Are they like the stuff you see on TV?"

Sookie laughed, "No, they aren't like that at all. No more than the elves you've been with are." Grace had to laugh at that. "Yeah, I think it's safe to say the elves of Rivendell don't exactly match up with Santa do they?" They both burst out laughing again, and Grace was glad Sookie understood what she was talking about.

When they stopped giggling, Sookie answered her. "They're just like us in a lot of ways. Some of them are awful, and some of them are great. They've saved my life a couple of times, but they've almost gotten me killed too. There's never a dull moment, but I'm really lucky to have Eric. He watches over me, looks out for me, helps me when I need him."

Grace looked at her carefully. "You love him?"

Sookie thought about that for a minute, blushing and starting to smile. "I think I do." She turned to Grace, "What about you? You got somebody special hiding somewhere?"

Grace shrugged. "Nope. Not a soul."

Sookie frowned at her cousin, wondering why she hadn't bothered to notice the two absolutely stunning men at her disposal. "What about Nuada or Haldir?" Grace gave her a surprised look, the shock evident on her face. "Haldir's interested, I'm sure of it. I could tell how much he cared about you that night at Eric's. He never took his eyes off you." Sookie was completely sincere, and Grace knew it, but she wanted to know about more important things than men right then.

"You ever taken blood from someone?" It seemed like a creepy thing to ask, and Grace couldn't believe she even said it, but she wanted to know she wasn't the only one.

Sookie smiled brightly at her, "Sure! A couple of times from Eric and once from my old boyfriend Bill when I got beat up real bad. The vampires take blood from me too, but it's not for feeding, just during sex." She paused for a minute, obviously thinking. "I got drained one time too when I got poisoned by a maenad, kinda like Eric did you . . . only a group of vampires drained me – they passed me around actually - and let me tell you, if I ever need blood again, I hope somebody gives it to me the same way you got it! The last time I needed blood, I got handed a bottle of TrueBlood! That was some serious shit right there!"

Grace stared at cousin in complete disbelief. Obviously, she led a very sheltered life because Sookie was talking about all of this like it was completely normal. Grace was horrified at the idea that she drank Haldir's blood, but it sounded like Sookie did it all the time! And the idea of being passed around by a group of vampires all intent on draining your blood was enough to make her want to stay in Rivendell forever.

It took her a minute to recover before she could ask anything else, determined not to let Sookie know how much that last confession upset her. "Well what does it do to you after you drink somebody else's blood?" Grace asked her seriously, wondering if she really wanted to hear the answer. "Do you feel different about the one it came from?" Her mind was reliving the way she and Haldir had seemed to connect on an almost spiritual level when they'd had sex the other night. She wondered if it was because of the blood, the fact he was an elf, or just because the man was that damn good in bed!

"You're talking about a blood bond!" Sookie told her, laughing. "I've got a blood bond with Eric, and yeah, closer is one word for it. I get hot and bothered every time he walks in the room, and I know when he's in trouble too, but that's just part of it." Staring at Grace, Sookie knew what Grace wanted to know. "Yes sweetie. You've got a blood bond with Haldir. You drank his blood, I saw it."

Grace sat on the edge of the tub and thought about that. If having a blood bond with someone meant getting hot and bothered every time you thought about them, then Haldir definitely qualified. But he qualified anyway – good lord, just look at him! "Well how much blood does it take to bond?" Grace asked seriously, wondering if she really had a bond with him, or if it was simple infatuation.

Sookie laughed at Grace. "With vampires, not much. I don't know how it works with elves or fairies, but I've only had a little of Eric's a few times and that's been enough to bind me to him. I know it gets stronger the more you take from them. How much of Haldir's blood have you had?"

Staring at Sookie, Grace hated to answer the question. Her voice was almost a whisper when she finally did. "I've been drained dry twice and had my blood completely replaced by his."

Sookie's eyes got big when she heard the answer, and she shook her head. "Sweetie, you are done for! You'll never look at another man again."

Grace gave a nervous laugh, then suddenly thought about Nuada. She got out of sorts when he came around too, and it was more than simple infatuation – it was just as strong with him as it was with Haldir. "Can you be bonded to two people at the same time? And does it ever wear off? Will it go away?" Grace really wanted to know the answer to those questions. Her mind was racing. _What happens when I go home if I never see either one of them again? Will I always feel the way I do right now?_

Sookie sat there and thought about it for a few minutes. "I don't know . . . I really don't." Grace didn't either, but she sure wished she had the answer, although after sleeping with Haldir the other night, she was positive she'd burn for him regardless. Anybody who'd had a piece of that and didn't wake up wanting more, had something very wrong with them.

They sat and talked for a few minutes longer, enjoying the isolation the bathroom offered them. Once they opened that door they would be returned to this strange alternate realm where everything was beautiful, and nothing made sense. Finally, they relented, coming back out into the open.

Coming to the bedroom, Grace felt so much better. The pain pills were working, she was warm and clean, and somehow having Sookie with her comforted her. She shoved the suitcase back under the bed, and the two cousins went on the balcony, making a most unusual sight to the group of powerful supernatural beings at the courtyard table watching them. They were just talking away about nothing, complete polar opposites of one another. Sookie was taller, blonde, lighter skinned and sweet to a fault. Grace was short, dark haired and dark skinned, and she was ill tempered at best!

After a short time, Niall joined them. "Sookie my dearest little one. I am afraid I shall have to take you back. Are you satisfied that Grace is indeed safe now?"

Sookie turned to him, anger flaring in her eyes. "I expect them to do a better job of taking care of Grace until she goes home!" she snapped the words out, and Niall was surprised. He'd hoped the two girls would like each other, but he never expected this!

Inclining his head politely, he assured her that they would, and Niall was positive about that. While the girls had been enjoying their talk in the bathroom, both Niall and Elrond had chewed Haldir and Nuada a new one. There were new rules and they would be followed to the letter until Grace left this place.

Giving Grace a huge hug, Sookie bid her farewell, surprised when Grace teared up. "I hate to see you go." She told her softly in a broken voice. Her only link to the normal world she missed was leaving, and she didn't know when she'd see her again.

"Don't you worry!" Sookie assured her. "I'll be right there in Bon Temps when you get back, and I'll be waiting on you!" She smiled at Grace brightly, and patted her on the arm. "You take care of yourself Grace, and I'll see you soon."

Grace smiled back at her, and accepted a kiss from her great-grandfather as well. "Take care of yourself Grace. Things will be better for you from now on." It seemed to be a statement of fact, and Grace wondered if it was true. Stepping away from them, she watched them disappear, very sad to see them go. She didn't want to talk to any of the others, and turned away, heading for the gardens.

It was getting late in the afternoon, and Grace was surprised to see a very upset and panicked elf in the gardens. It was Duer, and he was still obsessing over the ruined rose bushes. He was nearly in tears as he slowly cut away the brittle burnt branches, disgusted that hundreds of years in work was gone. Grace felt terrible and went to stand beside him. He started at the sight of her, obviously frightened to death, and Grace felt even worse. There were tears in her eyes when she turned away, but he touched her arm to stop her.

Duer didn't speak the Weston languages, and they had no way to communicate, but he rushed to the other side of the garden and returned with a perfect red rose in his hand. He handed it to her, then reached to brush the tear from her cheek, showing her that he did not want to see her sad. Smiling, he nodded at her, hoping she could understand his concern and Grace smiled back. Perhaps there were kind people here.

She walked back to the dead rose bushes with him, and watched him kneel over the plant again, almost as if willing it to live again. It was very sad to see the elf so distraught over the plant, and Grace leaned down beside him. Her skin began to flicker blue in the falling light as she ran them over the plant, and in a moment the most stunning rose bush full of blooms was there. Duer nearly fainted, and began to swear under his breath in elven. This little human was the strangest thing he'd ever seen.

Laughing at him, Grace got up and went to the next one, slowly working her way down the row then back up again. It took about an hour, but finally they were all restored and Duer was beside himself with happiness. He grabbed her in a huge hug, then instantly was sorry when she squealed in pain. His waving hands told her how upset he was, and Grace patted him on the arm to reassure him. She would be fine. He was smiling and bowing to her like she was a princess or something, and Grace didn't know how to make him stop.

Nuada appeared about that time, and he laughed at Duer too. The young elf was quite excitable, but even Nuada was relieved to see the beautiful garden restored to its former glory. Lord Elrond would be pleased, since the roses were his favorite. Nuada told Duer something in elf speak, he nodded to Grace once more then disappeared, hardly able to wait to share the news of what he'd just seen. Grace watched him go, wondering what Nuada wanted. She was still furious with him about that bath, and he knew it.

"Would you please walk with me Erulissë?" he asked her, his voice soothing and low as he spoke, trying to reassure her that he didn't want to fight. Studying his face, Grace saw that his green eyes showed no traces of anger, only concern and she finally nodded that she would. He drew close to her, actually putting his hand at the small of her back as they began to walk. They said nothing at first, just very slowly walking though the enormous garden looking at one perfectly stunning rose bush after another. "Which is your favorite?" he asked her softly, stopping to look down yet another row of glorious flowers.

"Coral." Grace answered, wondering why he cared. Nuada glanced around, then stepped away from her for a moment, returning with a beautiful coral rose in his hand. She was still holding the red one from Duer, but she took it from him with a small smile.

Nuada's emerald green eyes studied her as she slowly took the rose and smelled it's wonderful fragrance. She wouldn't look at him, but she knew he was staring at her. "Please forgive me Erulissë." He said softly, "I should never have treated you the way I did yesterday, nor should I have left you alone last night. There is no excuse." Looking at him, Grace was truly surprised. Nuada wasn't the type to apologize, she was positive. "Can we please start again?" he asked her sincerely, reaching to run a gentle finger across the bruises around her eye.

Grace was completely confused by his behavior, and just stared at him for a minute. She knew what he'd done for her night before last, and that wasn't lost on her. Considering that, she wondered if that's why he'd been so ugly to her yesterday. Maybe he just needed somebody to take it out on, or maybe he really hated her for having to kill somebody. "I heard what you did for me." She said softly, wondering what he'd say in return.

He frowned at her. Nuada did not want to talk about that right now, but obviously Grace did. "I did what was necessary to protect you Erulissë, and I have no regrets." He told her firmly, and Grace was surprised. Stepping in front of her, Nuada reached to cup her face in his hands as he searched her grey eyes with his green ones. "I told you I shall never allow another to harm you Erulissë." His eyes burned when he said it, and Grace knew he meant those words with every fiber of his being.

"Thank you for healing me." His soft voice told her. "I only wish I could do the same for you. It is most difficult for me to see you suffer Erulissë . . . I do not like to see you so sad." He was staring at her so intently, Grace felt like he was talking to her very soul, and it was listening. Being so close to him was very disturbing to her, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the tiny blue flames licking at her the way they seemed to do whenever he got close.

"You're welcome." She whispered, and he leaned to ever so gently kiss her cheek.

Nuada looked very relieved that she wasn't so angry at him anymore, and he stepped beside her again, casually putting his arm back at her waist as they began to walk again. "There are very important things for us to discuss Erulissë. If you do not feel up to it, we might speak in the morning when you have rested." Watching her, Nuada knew Grace was tired, and that she'd had an extremely long day.

Grace could only imagine what that meant, and she frowned. Her head still hurt, and she really didn't want to talk about anything important right now. "I think I'd rather wait if that's ok with you." He smiled at her softly to let her know that it was, and after wandering the gardens for a little while longer he guided her back to the beautiful bedchamber.

A tray with more lembas and a Diet Dr. Pepper was waiting for her, and Nuada grinned at her reaction when she saw it. He knew from the empty bottles in her truck that was obviously her favorite. She hadn't had one in days, and it was the most wonderful thing in the world when she opened it, even giving him a true smile when she did. He was thrilled to have done something she liked for a change, and kissed her cheek again as he went to leave. "Haldir will stay the night with you, and I shall return in the morning." He told her heading for the doorway. "We shall discuss your future then."

Grace nearly choked when she heard that statement, but he was already gone. She was left sitting in an empty bedroom wondering what Haldir spending the night was going to entail, and just what Nuada intended to tell her in the morning about her future.


	11. Holding On - Letting Go

Chapter 11 – Holding On and Letting Go  
 _Part 1 - A Most Pleasant Evening_

"Are you all completely insane?" Grace growled out furiously, not believing what she'd just been told, positive she'd descended to the seventh ring of hell. There was an entire group of frowning supernatural men staring at her, waiting for her to say something meaningful, and that certainly wasn't it.

The stunningly beautiful rose Duer brought her at daylight that morning when she was standing on the balcony meant nothing as she slammed it down on the stone table, petals flying in every direction from the impact. Putting her hands over her face, she tried desperately to stay calm, but failed miserably. After all she'd been through, this was just the cherry on top. "I don't believe you people." She whispered, and quickly walked away, heading away from the gardens less she completely destroy the entire acre of beautiful flowers with her anger. She'd already had the night from hell, seemed this morning wasn't going to be any different.

Haldir had arrived in her room only moments after Nuada left, and she'd known from his expression he was very, very unhappy. He said nothing, gently pulling her into his arms and holding her there for the longest time. When he finally eased his hold on her, Grace pulled back from him and was shocked to see the expression on his face. He looked devastated, and she wondered what was happening. "Tell me." She whispered, knowing it couldn't be good.

"You are leaving this place Grace." He told her softly, his voice torn as he spoke. "Two weeks time, then you are being returned to your world." He frowned fiercely, his deep blue eyes burning in the dim moonlight as he held her. "I cannot imagine my life without you." He whispered, dragging her against him again, and Grace felt her heart break right in half. She thought about the cousin she'd met the previous day and all the things they'd talked about. Grace knew she had to leave this strange place and return to her own world, but the idea of leaving Haldir absolutely devastated her, and she didn't know how she'd do it when the time came.

He didn't possess her that night, both of them broken at the idea of being without the other. Grace's tears fell softly against his porcelain skin in the stillness of the night as she clung to him. Surely she would die if he was taken away from her. Haldir lay beside her, feeling the same way. He'd never known love, never allowed himself the luxury of intimate feelings or commitment. They were nothing more than a sign of weakness. Now that he'd been touched by her white hot flame, he couldn't imagine his life after the glowing warmth of Grace was gone.

When morning came, he rose without a word, Grace sitting up in the bed to watch him dress, her eyes teary still as she studied his magnificent body in the growing light. Once his clothes were replaced, he slid to sit beside her, his deep blue eyes heavy with emotion as he studied her. Gentle fingers roughened by years of drawing the bowstring carefully touched her face as he spoke softly to her. "I do not know how, but I swear to you Grace, one day we will be together."

Grace nearly choked on his words, her throat so tight she couldn't breathe, and when he leaned to kiss her forehead she'd clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle the sob that tore through her. Haldir felt terrible. She'd been through so much, surely she deserved better than to lose him as well. They'd known each other no more than a few days, but wasn't that how it was supposed to be . . . an instant connection with your soul mate that your heart would recognize instantly? He pulled her against his chest, the strongly muscled arms holding her while she cried, rubbing her back gently as she shared her pain with him. He'd soothed her for the longest time, then rose and silently left. His heart was broken too, and two weeks would pass in an instant. What would he do once she was gone?

She'd taken a bath after he left, lingering in her room afterward to lay across the bed and smell Haldir's woodsy scent clinging to the linens. When she finally made her way out to the balcony, she heard raised voices and her name. There was a fight taking place on the terrace, and she knew it was about her. Wondering what was wrong, she brazenly headed for the courtyard table, the splitting headache instant as she stood with Niall and Nuada on her right firmly pitted against Lord Elrond and Haldir on her left. Gandalf was in the middle, directly across from her, and the atmosphere was so tense it was palpable. No sooner did she appear, than things fell deathly silent, five sets of eyes suddenly locked on her as she stood there in the morning light. Nuada said they'd discuss her future this morning, but obviously the discussion wasn't supposed to include her.

"Don't talk about me, then instantly shut up now that I'm here!" she ground out furiously. "What are you saying about me?"

"Grace please . . ." Elrond began, but his firm voice fell on deaf ears. Glancing around, Grace saw that both Nuada and Haldir looked like they were about to explode, and she knew something terrible was being discussed here.

"Tell me what you are talking about NOW!" she nearly screamed, and Nuada rose from his chair. Grace needed to be careful. She might be human, but the creatures at this table did not take to disrespect kindly.

"Erulissë please. Go back to your room, or take a quiet walk in the gardens. I will join you shortly and we will speak of this." His voice was low, soothing and insistent. He wanted her to listen to him. He wanted her to obey his polite orders.

Grace only glared back at him. "Speak now, not later! I'm not your fucking pet – you don't get to decide what happens to me! I get to decide what I do – not ya'll!" Grace was getting madder by the second, beginning to absolutely glow in the bright morning sun, her eyes getting darker by the second. "Now tell me what you are talking about!"

Elrond's firm voice came across the table, hoping to calm her. "Grace! Calm down!" he ordered her firmly, not the least bit concerned when her black eyes locked on him. "Your health is of the utmost importance to us all child. You have shown us quite clearly that you are a very powerful young woman. For your safety, we agree that you need careful guidance over these next days. Beginning this morning, Nuada will accompany you during the daylight hours, while Haldir will tend to you come nightfall. For the remainder of your stay in Rivendell, you are never to be left alone."

Grace felt her entire body go numb when she heard his words, instantly reducing the giant flower arrangement in the center of the table to dust. They were treating her like a damn dog on a potty training schedule! Stomping across the stone patio, she made it down several flights of stone steps and found herself on what seemed to be a small grassy lawn. Glancing around, she saw a new variety of paths, and randomly went down one. She calmed somewhat as she walked, the fact that against Elrond's own words she was now alone, not lost to her. Finally, she found herself at a small stream, completely breathtaking in it's natural tranquility.

She'd staggered alongside it, finally plopping down under yet another perfect and enormous tree. She wondered why everything in this place had to be so beautiful, and why in this beautiful place such terrible things had to keep happening to her. Leaning her head into her hands, she didn't know what she felt – she wanted to scream, she wanted to throw up, she wanted to explode. On the terrace the reactions were about the same, no one knowing how to help control her until she could control herself.

Grace sat there for the longest time, completely confused, lost in the jumble of emotions that kept tearing through her. She burned for Haldir, yet she felt comforted by Nuada . . . she didn't want to leave Haldir, but more than anything else she wanted away from this place . . . and she couldn't understand everything that happened to her, couldn't understand everything Sookie told her yesterday about vampires and werewolves and strange people who could change their shape in an instant.

Dragging herself to her feet, she knew the pain medicine from that morning was wearing off, and could feel the intense pain returning. Knowing she needed to get back to the house before she got trapped the same way she did the other night, she slowly made her way back to Imladris. As she slowly climbed the stone steps, she found the courtyard thankfully empty. It was a welcome relief, Grace knowing her mind couldn't take another fight or argument right now. Coming across the balcony, she sensed Nuada was close by and eased around the corner to see where. What she saw surprised her, and she quietly went to sit beside him. "I thought you might like it." His soft voice told her as Grace watched him ever so carefully work the tiniest little golden piece into place.

This was one of the magnificent puzzle boxes that Nuada worked on in his free time, and he'd brought one to share with Grace. Glancing to his side, he could see the tiny blue flickers dancing under her skin as she sat beside him, a sure sign she wasn't in control of her aura when she was close to him. That needed to change, and he hoped this puzzle box might help that happen.

It wasn't really a puzzle at all, although Nuada wasn't sure what else he'd call it. Once completed, it would be a beautiful little golden box in the shape of an egg. Six interlocking sections would open to reveal a space inside – perfect for hiding your very own tiny treasure inside. It also was a music box, and once the mechanics of it were nestled into the bottom, it would play when opened. Nuada had a great number of these intricate creations in every shape imaginable, and he loved to put them together. Some had hundreds of pieces, some had thousands and all were designed by a very dear man he'd known for thousands of years. The jeweler designed that very crown sitting on Lord Elrond's head, and when he wasn't doing work for the royals, he designed these intricate little creations for pleasure.

"Can you see what I am doing Erulissë?" Nuada asked softly, ever so cautiously slipping one tiny ring into place.

Grace watched what he was doing in fascination. "Yes. It's beautiful." She whispered, amazed at the tiny jewels that sparkled over the various parts. It would be a magnificent thing once it was completed!

"Now you try." He told her, showing her the tiny piece and where she should place it. "Do it with your mind. It will help you learn control." Silently, Nuada prayed that it would help Grace learn control before she lost control and went after somebody again. It took her a minute to get hold of it, the tiny piece very difficult to control, and at least thirty minutes had passed before she slipped it into place.

Nuada left while she was working on it, the pain medication in his hand along with a glass of water to take them with when he returned. He slipped to sit with her as she finished, her face creased into the deepest frown imaginable, but when it finally slid in, Nuada saw that the blue flickers were nearly gone. It worked!

After all these years of trying to suppress the ability to move things, it was taking a great effort for Grace to use it with such precision, and getting control of the tiny piece was a struggle. "Why is this so hard?" she asked, pleased but completely frustrated as she thankfully swallowed the pills.

"The smaller the object, the more focused your energy must be. A large object can be controlled by any burst of energy from your mind, yet smaller things will require much more control from you. You must practice!" Nuada's voice was encouraging, and he hoped she would enjoy working on the puzzle. "I will leave this for you. Work with it as much as you'd like. It will be good for you."

He pointed out a new piece, and Grace found it slightly easier to manipulate, slipping it into place within about fifteen minutes. Once it was there, she turned to Nuada with a smile. "I'm getting a headache, but I like it."

He smiled back, very happy to have brought some tiny comfort to the fragile woman beside him. The things she was being subjected to were far outside of normal limits for a human, and he was surprised she'd endured it as well as she had. "Do you still feel so torn?" he asked suddenly, wondering if their plan to keep her separated from himself and Haldir at the same time was working. "Or has that feeling passed?"

Sitting there for a few moments, she thought about that. No, right that moment her head did not feel like it was being torn apart, and it was a huge relief. Meeting Sookie had also soothed her soul tremendously, and she couldn't wait to spend more time with her. Suddenly Grace frowned terrible, and tears came to her eyes as she studied the floor.

Nuada was watching her, although he was not listening to her mind. He tried to never do that unless it was completely necessary. Anything Grace shared with him willingly was worth so very much more than what he stole from her mind. "Talk to me Erulissë." He told her softly, instantly turning away from the puzzle to concentrate on her. "Tell me what is so wrong to upset you this way." His green eyes implored her to trust him enough to confide in him, and she did.

"Please tell me what happened the night ya'll took me to the vampire's house. I need to know why Sookie dates something that does this to people. She seemed so nice . . ." her voice was torn as she spoke, the pain of remembering obvious in every word. Nuada considered Grace for a moment, seeing the emotions so clearly in her eyes as she searched his face for answers. Neither Lord Elrond or Lord Niall ever told him he couldn't tell Grace what happened that night, and obviously Haldir had not bothered. Looking at the gaping wounds in her neck, Nuada could certainly understand why she would wonder about such things, so he took a deep breath and answered her.  
Nuada told Grace every single thing about the night her blood turned, about the struggle to cool her, the tribunal, even about him killing the vampire ultimately responsible for her wounds. He finished up with every last detail of what happened at Eric's house, visiting Sookie's place of work, and even portions of his conversations with Eric at Fangtasia. If he was to be her guardian, then they must be honest with one another. He would not lie to her.   
When he finished, Grace had a stunned expression. No wonder Haldir had been so upset when she lashed out at him that morning! He'd done a lot more to save her than she ever imagined. Nuada was watching her uncertainly, wondering what she thought of him killing the female vampire, thinking she might despise him for it. "Erulissë, are you upset with me?" his strained voice finally asked.   
She shook herself from her thoughts, and turned to him, surprised to hear him say such a thing. "For what? For killing a vampire? Absolutely not!" the firmness in her voice left no doubt - she actually was thrilled at the idea, and Nuada was pleased by her response.   
"Le hannon Erulissë." He told her softly, placing his hand over his heart in gratitude. "Thank you Erulissë for understanding."   
Grace stared at Nuada across the puzzle, surprised he'd told her so much about that night. He was being honest with her, and she wondered if he'd tell her more. "I'm not going back home am I?" she whispered as her eyes locked with his.

Nuada frowned desperately. He didn't want to start a fight with Grace, and she'd just been doing so well on the puzzle. He hated to ruin it. His eyes fell to study the carvings on the wooden border surrounding the floor planks, and Grace knew he was trying to think of something to say . . . in her heart she already knew the answer - she wasn't ever going back home.

Taking a deep breath, he finally met her grey eyes with his green ones. "Forgive my words Erulissë, but you are correct. When you leave this place, you shall not be returning to South Carolina. Your apartment no longer exists, and even as we speak your belongings are being shipped to Shreveport." Nuada stopped, his face the mask of concern, his voice strained by what he was telling her. He wondered if she would explode, and he'd understand if she did. Grace didn't say one word, only sat there and studied the specks of dirt on the balcony floor intently and waited for him to finish.

"You will like Shreveport Erulissë, I'm sure of it. Sookie is there, and Eric will help protect you. Eric is a very powerful vampire, and he can be a very powerful friend. As Sheriff over that area, Eric extends his protection to you, and a vow of protection is already extended to Sookie by the Vampire King of Louisiana himself. That same vow applies to you as a descendent of Lord Niall."

He paused again, still watching her, but getting nothing. "Erulissë, you could never be safe in South Carolina. I hope you can understand that, and your true family is not there. Sookie is of your same bloodline, your only true living human relative and Lord Niall and Lord Elrond have their base of operations in Louisiana. Shreveport is the logical place for you to be."

Grace said nothing, showed no reaction as she absorbed his words, just continued to stare at the floor as she rubbed her temples like she was really tired. She'd lived on the coast if South Carolina her entire life, and couldn't imagine not living close to the ocean . . . couldn't imagine not hearing the waves or feeling the sand against her skin as she laid in the sun. Her soul needed the peace of the ocean, and she couldn't believe these people were taking it away.

Nuada knew his words devastated her, and hoped she could accept them. "Erulissë? Please tell me what you think of these things. I know you are upset, but if you talk to me, I promise I shall listen."

Her grey eyes flashed stainless when they slammed into his again, her southern drawl demanding as she spoke. "Well, where are you going to be?" If she was getting uprooted and taken to this strange new place, was he getting drug along too? Nuada was floored by her question, and it wasn't one he was completely prepared to answer. He certainly was not considering giving up his life in Los Angeles to move to Shreveport!

He frowned deeply as he mulled that over, as perplexed by her question as she'd been by his answers. Finally, he answered Grace the only way he knew how. "No matter where my physical possessions are Erulissë, my thoughts will always remain with you. You have only think of me, and I shall be there." Grace didn't seem impressed with his answer, and he knew she worried about being dumped in another strange place, confused and alone just as she had been here.

"Erulissë you have my word on my life that I will never abandon you. I will not break that promise, if you will only trust me." Extending one of his graceful hands toward her, he looked at her intently. "Will you trust me Erulissë?"

Grace felt like she was making a deal with the devil when she put her small tanned fingers in his pale elegant ones, but there was comfort in that hand, and somehow she knew this strange creature across from her would protect her. Somehow his very touch was like soothing balm on the wounds of her soul, and more than anything else, she needed one constant thing in her life that would remain the same from this day forward. She prayed Nuada would be that thing.

He said nothing else to her, but her hand nestled in his spoke volumes as he guided her back to the bedchamber. Before he left, Nuada kissed the back of her hand as was his growing tradition, and Grace responded in kind by leaning over and placing an impromptu kiss on his cheek. It was the first time she'd ever done such a thing, and he blushed furiously at the gesture. Nuada was not accustomed to such displays of genuine affection from a woman, not in public anyway, and although they were in the privacy of her bedchamber it startled him.

Grace giggled at his reaction, thinking the blush on his cheeks was adorable, and that only made his blush a deeper shade of rose pink. "Erulissë, you are full of surprises!" he told her, and she laughed at him. Still shaking his head, he bid her goodnight and silently slipped away.

Making his way across the balcony, Nuada found his fingers absently stroking the side of his face where her lips had been only moments before. It was such an odd thing to do, and when he realized it, he quickly snatched his hand away and faded into the darkness. The human perplexed him to no end, but Nuada meant what he told Grace on the balcony that day. Grace had no idea what that magnificent creature would do to save her before it was over.

***************************************

"Watch your step!" Haldir's hushed voice cut through the darkness. Grace only giggled behind him. Nuada wasn't the only one who thought Grace needed a distraction, and Haldir refused to spend another somber night in the bedchamber lamenting what may or may not take place between them over the next two weeks. He'd decided Grace could use a change of scenery, and he was sneaking her to the stables in the middle of the night for a tour and perhaps a little something else if she felt so inclined.

As they left the grandeur of Imladris behind, Haldir carefully led Grace down a myriad of soft dirt paths, ever careful of his pace and her footing. She was much shorter than him, and still very sore so he had shorten his gate to match her, although he did not mind one bit. Walking beside Grace in the darkness felt like the most wonderful thing in the world to the steady marchwarden, and he found himself amazed once again by how drawn he was to this human woman.

Finally, Grace could see what appeared to be a large stable in the distance, complete with numerous paddocks of horses. Though she was raised on an island, there were great horse farms close by and even yearly steeplechase races held in Charleston where she was from. Grace absolutely loved horses! She'd taken riding lessons all during school, and was an accomplished rider. This was a familiar setting to her, the smell of fresh hay and warm bodies comfortable to her, and she found herself truly excited to see how the elven version of a stable compared to an earthly one.

Truth be known, there was absolutely no difference. When they came inside, Grace could see any number of absolutely beautiful horses in a rainbow of standard colors contently munching grass, and milling about their neat and tidy stalls. All manner of tack and saddles were carefully placed on racks just as they would be in her world, and Grace felt almost like she could have been back in South Carolina as she stood there. Looking over the animals with appreciation, Grace immediately noticed a huge piebald stallion in the farthest and largest stall. He was obviously excited by their arrival, and was anxiously pacing about and whickering incessantly. Easing closer, Grace saw one of the most stunningly beautiful animals she had ever seen.

All the horses seemed excited to see her, and gathered themselves at their gates to be petted and rubbed. Grace found herself wondering how often the poor things got any attention, not knowing that she herself was drawing them to her. Vampires were not the only creatures who found the whiff of fae essence to be irresistible! After petting as many as she could, she gave in to the repeated protests whinnied to her from the far stall, the stallion loudly voicing his protest at being made to wait for her affections. Grace finally made her way to him, her amazement only growing as she took in the animal more closely.

He knew she was there, and paraded around the enclosure, showing off just for her. Haldir watched in amazement as the huge black and white animal strutted and preened for woman, while Grace wondered what the nearest earth breed would be to the magnificent horse, knowing she had never seen another to match him. The proud horse was stocky, heavily built with the longest mane and tail she'd ever seen falling in soft waves. Heavily feathered feet danced as he moved, while huge black patches shimmered against his brilliant white coat in dramatic fashion. She stood by the gate, and waited for him to come to her, while Haldir held his breath. The stallion reared and whinnied loudly, then walked right over to her leaning as far over the wooden gate as possible, his head pressed tightly against Grace as she began to whisper baby talk in his ears, petting and rubbing his huge head with both hands.

This was Seraphim. He was Haldir's personal steed, and matched him perfectly in every way. The horse was proud and beautiful, tall and firm, and he allowed no one to touch him save Haldir. No man had even sat on the horse but him. Experienced at war, Seraphim was steady as a rock during battle, and would quickly put tooth or hoof to anyone who came near him. He'd even nipped a young stable mate severely once just for holding his reins.

Haldir simply stood and watched his horse react to Grace in sheer amazement. When she turned and smiled at him, he was completely speechless, incapable of even telling her the horse's name for a moment. Obviously, she had the same effect on his animal as she did on him! Coming to stand beside her, Haldir reached over and patted the great horses neck, smiling down at Grace. "He likes you very much!" he told her proudly.

"I see that." Grace answered with a huge smile. "He's absolutely gorgeous!"

Haldir laughed softly. He received that compliment often! "His name is Seraphim, and he is my horse."

Grace turned to him in surprise, then looked carefully from Haldir to the horse and back again. "Well he suits you! Gorgeous – Arrogant - I can see the resemblance!" Haldir gave her a completely false warning glare, then laughed along with her. The ever serious marchwarden didn't laugh very often, and it was wonderful to see Grace genuinely enjoying herself for a change.

The stable was fairly well lit, a variety of lanterns hanging about, and Grace was surprised when she looked to Haldir again, seeing his expression had changed dramatically from one of joyful laughter to smoldering desire as he stood by her. The smile faded from her lips as he leaned to capture them with his, tasting her for the first time that night. Every kiss from Haldir was more magnificent that the last, and Grace found herself instantly breathless. Her soft sigh of pleasure only stoked his desires, and Grace knew he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

This was very different that in had been in the bedchamber, Grace unable to see his movements toward here. She could see him quite clearly, and the burning want that glowed deep down in those velvety blue eyes was irresistible. Grace was stunned when he caught her hand and gently led her over to the hay loft, whispering in her ear, wondering if she could climb the ladder to get up there. His hot breath against her skin was enough to make her climb a mountain, and although it took her a few minutes and some gentle encouragement from below that he seemed to enjoy all to well, she finally found herself there.

Stretching himself beside her in the soft hay, Haldir lay on his side, his head resting in his hand as he watched her. He liked looking at Grace, her human features odd and interesting to him. The sheer imperfection of her compared to an elven female was intriguing, and he found himself counting the spots that covered her nose. Grace liked to look at Haldir too, his perfect skin and soft pink lips begged for attention, and she couldn't resist sliding closer to him and burying her hands in that silky platinum hair.

Brushing her cheek with the back of his hand, his nose ran ever so lightly along her temple, painstakingly slow in it's descent to her mouth. His lips were like velvet, his mouth so gentle as he tasted her again. He knew she was still sore, yet he worshipped her, his lips capturing first one then the other of hers in their tempting grasp. Knowing she was not satisfied with those lingering brushes, he deepened it, his tongue slowly slipping between her lips to truly taste this human he desired so badly.

Grace found herself drowning in that kiss, unable to comprehend how he could make her blood boil with only his mouth. He didn't intend to only use his mouth, and Grace soon found that available hand ever so carefully making its way under her shirt to brush against her flesh. Haldir was not familiar with these clothes she had on, but the strange texture of the silky woven knit top she wore felt good against his hand. So did her warmth, and he soon found himself running that hand up the legs of her shorts desperate to free her from them.

Being in this odd place was strangely erotic in itself, and Grace found herself transfixed by the sensations assaulting her senses. Soon he had her sprawled out in the hay, his shirtless body now stretched out over her, his hands and mouth roaming her body freely as she moaned underneath him. Never before had any man made her feel this way.

Raising himself from her, Haldir gently removed her shirt, firm hands caressing her as they slid around to unclasp her bra. He was watching her face as he did it, interested to see the emotions that crossed her face when his hands came around to claim his prize. He smiled softly at the satisfaction in her eyes as he stroked her flesh, delighting in the soft gasp that escaped her when he lowered his head to run his tongue across her ribcage. His hands had just caught the waistband of her shorts and begun to pull when the voice came calling from below them, Grace instantly terrified as she lay half undressed beneath him.

Scowling in irritation, Haldir sat up and stared over the edge, pure venom in his voice at being interrupted. "Who is there? What say you?"

"Tis I," the strong male voice replied, "Glorfindel come to retrieve my mount. Who is in the loft this night?" The imposing blonde elf warrior was standing in the center of the stable, his hands placed on his hips as he trained his eyes skyward, wondering who would be so bold as to be milling about in the stables this time of night.

"Haldir of Lórien." Came the harsh reply, and Glorfindel found himself quite surprised. The powerful marchwarden general of the Northern Wood was resting in this hay loft? He continued to stare in curiosity, assuming his fellow warrior would come down to greet him now that he was discovered, and began to feel irritated at the slight when he didn't. Grunting in disgust, he turned away, only to hear the slightest giggles of delight falling down like rain upon his ears.

Unable to hide the surprised smile that immediately crossed his mouth, Glorfindel turned to his business, reaching for his tack with matchless efficiency. "I shall try not to linger!" he called loudly, his voice touched by humor, knowing the marchwarden was not alone. His words were met by outright laughter that time, Grace unable to contain her humor at being caught with Haldir in such a position. She couldn't care less, but he was obviously distraught, his usually stoic demeanor dissolved into pure fury that he was not only interrupted but stone cold busted as he sat beside her.

As promised Glorfindel was soon gone, and Grace found herself more than delighted with the entire scenario. Haldir was brooding as she eased behind him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her still bare upper body against his. He refused to give in quite yet, although he did find himself leaning his head over to allow her better access when she began to slowly kiss her way up his neck. Somehow his hand found its way into her hair, softly pressing her head closer and she ran her hands over the muscled perfection of his chest and slipped her tongue into his ear. The soft moan of pleasure that came from him was guttural, instinctive, pure pleasure by its very nature. The feel of her bare skin against his was making him burn, and when her hands found their way to the waist of his pants, he couldn't resist.

He turned around, his arms pulling her into his lap as his mouth found hers, insistent against her, demanding it allow him entrance. His kiss was relentless in its gentle movements, his lips torturing her with their softness, his tongue stroking something deep within her that begged to be released. When he laid her on her back to slide off her remaining clothes, she couldn't wait, and when he freed himself of his own she was amazed again at the sheer perfection of the body presented to her.

Deep blue eyes locked with soft grey ones in the shadowed light, his voice raw with desire as he spoke to her. "Give me your hands." He whispered, his fingers intertwining with hers as he rested above her on his elbows. "Now let me love you . . . give yourself to me Grace."

Grace felt like she was in a trance as his mouth lowered to catch hers again, her mind instantly melting into his as he possessed not only her mouth and her body but her very soul it seemed. Her mind flew with his through fields of pleasure as he rocked against her, their bodies sharing the sheen of sweat that covered them. Never before had Grace been so completely and utterly possessed by someone, and it was the most unbelievable experience of her life. When she couldn't control herself any longer, she found herself crying out beneath him, the first time any man had wrung such a sound from her in her life. His own cry of pleasure soon joined it, and outside Glorfindel found himself chuckling in the still night air as he fastened the last of his buckles. Whoever was in that loft with Haldir was obviously having a most pleasant evening!

 _Part 2 - Time to Say Goodbye_

"You are leaving in the morning." The deep voice told her.

"I know." She whispered softly.

Darkness hung over the couple as they approached the top of the cliffs. Grace didn't know why, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be walking hand in hand with Haldir beside her. It was a beautiful night, and they had been walking for hours just enjoying the peaceful sounds of evening insect calls and gentle waterfalls. When they reached the clearing above the cliffs, the moon was shining brightly, and Haldir asked Grace if she would like to sit for a while before going back to her room.

"I'd love to," she told him quietly, solemnly sitting down on a patch of soft clover. He sank to sit close beside her, and the silence surrounded them as their hearts beat together, just holding hands, praying this was not a dream. After a few moments, Grace leaned over and put her head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his body against her skin. She refused to let her mind thing of anything other than the wonderful feeling of being close to him, desperate to burn it into her memory forever. Beside her, Haldir closed his eyes and let the feeling of her presence wash over him, and imagined that he could feel this way forever.

Leaning against him, Grace found that as she concentrated so completely on him, she could see images from his mind. There were all variety of things contained in the images, Seraphim and other marchwardens, deep woods and peaceful streams, strange wooden houses in the trees and terrible beasts, and the most beautiful red flowers she had ever seen. She thought about all the things she'd seen during her short stay here, and did not recall seeing any flower that looked like that. It was his favorite.

She opened her eyes, staring at the ground in front of her and then it happened. In an instant there was a beautiful red flower right in front of her. It was the same flower she had seen in his mind. Reaching out, she touched it to see if it was real and realized that it was indeed there. Carefully plucking it from the ground, she touched Haldir softly on the arm. He had been looking away from her, lost in thought as he stared out to the snow capped mountains in the distance. She handed him the red flower, seeing the genuine surprise in his face when he saw it. He looked confused as he took the flower from her hand. "For you," she whispered.

"How did you do this Grace?" he asked her quietly, clouded blue eyes searching her face, wanting to know how she could come to possess the knowledge of something he had shared with no other.

"I saw it – you were thinking about it." Her soft voice answered as she dropped her eyes from his intent stare.

He turned toward her, his face confused as he squeezed her hands in his. "You can see what I dream of?"

Her eyes filled with tears as she thought about his question. His mind had melded with hers on some subconscious level, his very blood uniting her with him in a way even he didn't seem to grasp. "Here in the quiet, touching you I can." She answered, her voice trembling as she wondered if he was angry with her. Brimming grey eyes searched his face, praying he did not resent this strange bond they had come to possess. "I'm sorry if I've upset you . . ." she tried to apologize.

Haldir shook his head, putting his fingers to her lips. "Shhh. Please do not apologize Grace. It is beautiful, and I have not seen one in many years." He brought the flower to his nose, smelling it's delicate fragrance and smiled softly. "Thank you." Once more, Haldir found himself amazed by the human woman sitting beside him. She was like nothing he had ever experienced, and he wondered what tomorrow would bring for her, and for him.

Grace simply smiled at him softly, then replaced her head against his shoulder, refusing to let this end. They sat for a while longer silently enjoying the beautiful night and the other's company, Haldir holding the red flower in his hand. After Grace yawned for the third time, Haldir looked over to her, velvet lips lowering to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "You need to rest now. You are very tired and tomorrow is a very important day."

She hesitated, her heart instantly seizing within her chest as she looked over at him, pure devastation on her face. He only smiled gently in return, his fingers reaching to stroke her face softly in the moonlight before he stood and pulled her up beside him. If she was unable to be strong through this, he would have to do it for her. Grace was fighting back tears as she began to walk away, but he caught her in his arms and pulled her back, leaning down to capture her mouth with his.

No matter how many times Haldir's lips touched hers, Grace was never quite prepared for how wonderful it was. She completely lost her ability to think when he kissed her, and she could feel everything in her come to life under his touch. His kiss was slow and gentle, possessing every fiber of her being before he released her, and it left her breathless as it always did. When his mouth left hers, he continued to hold her close for the longest time, then they silently returned to Imladris, his pale elven hand firmly held by her softly tanned human one.

Crossing the balcony, they entered the bedchamber and both headed toward the bed. Grace was very tired, and she had a terrible headache. Sitting on the side of the bed, she closed her eyes, putting her hands to her temples and praying for relief. They were immediately joined by two larger hands as Haldir stood in front of her and took her face in his hands. She looked up at him, surprised by the expression on his face.

He was staring at her with pure adoration shining in his velvet blue eyes. "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever known." he whispered to her, laying her gently back on the bed. As Haldir took possession of her that night, somehow it seemed different, as if they were connecting on a different level than they had before. He held her gently, loving her completely, and it seemed as if their very souls became one as they lay in each other's arms through the night.

Sometime during the night, pure mental exhaustion and the comfort of his body against hers lulled Grace to sleep. Waking with a start as the first rays of morning sunlight peeked into the room, her eyes flew to the empty place beside her and she panicked. Jerking back the covers, she sat up, instantly relieved when to see Haldir standing out on the balcony waiting for her. She quickly slid from the bed, her bare feet silent as she made her way to the bathroom. Rushing through the necessities, she threw on some clothes then went out to see him.

Standing beside him, her eyes took in the beauty of this strange place she had called home for the past three week. It seemed like an eternity, her old life nothing more than a distant memory. The past two weeks had been unbelievable. Hours filled with sunlight had been spent with Nuada always by her side, the puzzle pieces finding themselves fitting into place with growing ease. Gandalf and Elrond had been kind, supportive of her, gentle and understanding as they grew to know this unusual human woman who had come to walk among them. They all cared deeply for this girl, they were invested in her future, and they were determined she would succeed.

Her nights had been filled with strange adventures and love, Haldir determined to keep her mind away from her impending departure. They had explored every inch of Imladris during the wee hours of the night, and he made love to her in most of them. The magnificent elf who stood beside her had touched her very soul there in the darkness, possessing her on a level unknown to the human mind. She could not imagine her life without Haldir, positive she would die without him by her side.

Slowly, tears clouded her sight until she couldn't see the mountains surrounding her anymore, and as they began to fall her eyes fell too, lowering themselves to the wooden balcony that now kept her trembling body upright. Feeling his hand under her chin, her huge grey eyes went up to meet his deep blue ones, and their eyes locked. Grace stood there looking at him with a confused expression – not as a young human woman looking at a twenty five hundred year old elf - but simply as a woman looks at a man she cares very deeply for who is about to lose him. His carefully guarded expression changed as he met her gaze but he said nothing, hoping she could do this.

"Thank you for saving me." Grace said softly, her voice broken and strained. "I owe you my life, and I hope one day I can do something for you in return." Her voice shattered as she finished, her face collapsing into tears and they began to stream down her face.

Haldir watched her, his heart every bit as broken as hers. "You owe no debt to me Grace." he told her softly. "Payment has already been made through the privilege of knowing you." Their eyes met, and neither seemed quite sure of the moment, neither capable of walking away.

Grace knew she was in love with him, and she wished she had the courage to tell him, but she couldn't. "I hope you find what it is you seek, Haldir of Lórien. You deserve happiness." she finally whispered.

A faint glimmer of something flashed across his face, but it was fleeting and Haldir's expression showed her nothing of what the elf was feeling. He was struggling to hold himself together, incapable of doing anything beyond studying her with those gorgeous deep blue eyes. As she met his gaze, Grace could feel her heart slowly tearing in a million pieces, realizing neither of them could change what had to happen there that day.

She dropped her head, feeling the hot tears slide down her cheeks as she turned to walk away, but he stopped her. Haldir wasn't listening to her thoughts at that very moment, but the obvious sorrow within her called to him. Pulling her back, Grace melted into his arms, a sigh of relief tearing from her as her hands found his face and her lips caught his. He responded to her instantly, incapable of letting her go, his very soul demanding she stay. His arms crushed her against him and he kissed her as if his very life depended on it.

They had kissed so many times during her stay here, even made love, but this was different. Their hearts beat in unison as they touched, his blood flowing through not only his veins but hers as he held her against him. Grace was completely unaware of the blue glow that came over her, but as she kissed Haldir she was drawing out years of grief the elf carried, her tortured soul determined to comfort the one who held her even though she couldn't comfort herself. She erased the horror of wars fought, wounds suffered, the loss of friends, even the pain of losing her. Everything was washed away. It was like nothing either of them had every experienced. Grace felt as if she were drowning in the very essence of him, and Haldir felt as if water was pouring over his soul gently carrying away every pain he had ever suffered.

They kissed for the longest time, touching each other with much more than their mouths, and when they finally pulled apart from each other, both were shaken. Haldir seemed unsure of what had just happened, and Grace felt as if she were drunk, her very blood intoxicated by his presence. It took both of them a moment to gather themselves, then Grace stepped close to the elf once more. He drew a ragged breath as she stared up to deep blue eyes smoldering with desire. She burned them into her memory and gently laid her hand on his cheek. "No matter what life brings to you," she said softly with tears in her eyes, "know that there will always be someone who loves you".

Her soul begged for mercy as she turned, nearly running toward the gardens, fighting the heart wrenching sobs she knew would come, desperate for no one to see. By the time her feet touched the first path, Haldir caught her arm, swinging her around to face him. His face was filled with grief and longing, and he looked as if a great battle was being waged within him. Torments grey eyes searched his face, wondering what she could do, what she could say – anything to make this not be real.

His eyes ravaged her, taking in every detail, every freckle, every scar, every wisp of hair. Quickly he reached into his shirt and removed the heavy gold medallion he always wore. Grace had never asked about it, but she knew it must be very dear to him. He had never removed it, even when he made love to her. Placing it gently around her neck, he kissed her ever so softly on the forehead. "Wear it always Erulissë." He whispered in a broken voice. "It will keep you safe, and you will know that I am always with you." With one last lingering look, he stepped back from her and placed his hand over his heart. "Namárië Erulissë. Le melon." He whispered, then quickly turned away.

Grace watched him begin to leave, wondering what he said to her, her grief slowly beginning to overtake her as she felt everything in her whither and die. The gut wrenching scream that tore from her throat was of it's own volition, proof of everything she had endured, a token of the incapacitating pain that was overtaking her. She sank to the ground as huge sobs ripped through her, shoulders shaking as her sorrow completely overtook her.

The sounds of her torment tore at Haldir, seeing out his heart and threatening to tear it from his very soul. He froze for a moment, determined to walk away, but found he could not. Sinking to the ground beside her, he gently pulled Grace into his arms, holding her as she cried. His arms were safe and warm, and Grace completely let the grief consume her. He kissed her hair, stroked her back and whispered to her in elf speak while she cried for everything she had lost, everything she had endured and everything she was losing at that very moment.

Grace had sworn she would not do this, would not break down this way come morning, and she tried but found herself incapable of controlling her grief. When she began to calm, he took her face gently in his hands, and wiped her tears away with his fingers, looking into her eyes with a tortured expression. "Grace, I do not know how to comfort you." He told her, his sad voice broken and torn in the stillness of the morning sun. "These things simply must come to pass."

She choked as a huge sob tore from her, covered her mouth with her hand trying to stifle her emotions. Her eyes burned as she looked up at him, suddenly lost in his eyes, her emotion choked throat barely able to whisper her words. "I don't know how to tell you goodbye."

Feeling his very soul tearing to shreds in his chest, Haldir took a deep breath and steadied himself. His voice was low but firm, raw from the pain he was suffering when he spoke to her again. "Let me go Grace. Say nothing. Simply kiss me this one last time and let me walk away." The hundreds of razor sharp triangular teeth that hid within the menacing grey bull sharks patrolling the coastal waters of her home couldn't have torn Grace to pieces any better than those words did, and she wondered if she would die right there.

Finally their eyes met, taking in every detail of the other for a long, lingering moment, then he leaned over and kissed her. As his lips touched hers, Grace could instantly feel him – feel his pain, his hunger for her, his burning love. He kissed her with everything he was, and she kissed him right back, knowing this might be the last time he ever touched her.

When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, she turned away, her eyes still closed, her hands clamping firmly over her mouth to stifle the sobs building within her. She could do a lot of things, but she couldn't watch Haldir walk away from her. He hesitated, then made himself rise to stand over her. He stood there, silently watching her for a moment, wishing she would ignore him and say something, but she heeded his command and didn't make one sound.

The tiniest waft of dirt being pressed underneath someone's feet, told Grace he was gone, and she completely lost it. Her head sank into her hands and she cried her heart out, sobbing loud enough for everyone in Rivendell to hear. Across the paths from her the rose Duer held withered to ash in his very hand, the steady heart of the golden warrior Glorfindel cringed at the sounds of pain this human woman shared as he waited and watched, lingering along the garden borders, and the beautiful coral rose bush beside her fell dead, it's brittle burnt limbs showing the world how she suffered.

Far above her on the terrace, Lord Elrond turned a devastated face to his brother. "I hope you are satisfied." His rough voice growled. "Two hearts have been destroyed here this day." He turned away, needing not to hear the soul bearing cries that continued to rise from the depths of the flower laden hell Grace found herself in.

Haldir could hardly breathe as he walked away, listening to Grace pour the pain of her soul out behind him. It was the most horrible sound he had ever heard, and when he finally reached the edge of the gardens, he found himself incapable of continuing. Glorfindel was there, his presence requested by Lord Elrond should Haldir find it too difficult to see this through. Haldir turned to the familiar face, his blue eyes darkened by grief as he searching his friend's face for strength and direction.

"Let her go Haldir." Glorfindel told him firmly. "Go back to the Northern Wood and forget you ever met her. She is mortal. Let her live the rest of her life in peace."

Haldir closed his eyes and remembered her burning kisses during the night, the way she loved him breathless over and over again, and the way her white hot passion had warmed him. Opening them again, he gave Glorfindel a scorching look, then found a firm hand on his arm. "Please do not make this worse my friend." Glorfindel told him softly, his eyes sympathetic and understanding.

Haldir studied the golden haired warrior for a tense moment, then turned away, heading toward the stables. As he walked, his silent footsteps carried him away from the woman he loved. Slowly tears began to fall from Haldir's eyes for the first time in hundreds of years, and he wondered if he would ever see Grace again.


	12. Scream and Scrape

Chapter 12 - Scream and Scrape

"You arrogant bastard!" Grace screamed, hurling the cut crystal glass tumbler across the kitchen, watching in satisfaction as it exploded just above his head into a million pieces. "This isn't home you fucking moron. I'm going back to South Carolina, and I don't need your god damned permission!"

Grace was screaming, her southern voice drawling out the words as she threw the glasses from the cabinets at Nuada one by one, the stunning white kitchen with it's dark granite countertops and coffee colored hardwood floors littered with the wreckage of the battle being fought within it.

Nuada's brief explanation to her in Rivendell that Shreveport was where she needed to live from now on, hadn't set well with Grace. Now that she'd suddenly found herself being held prisoner in a luxury penthouse flat with Nuada as her new roommate, her attitude had deteriorated dramatically. Nuada didn't intend for her to stay here permanently, a house had already been secured for her, it just wasn't quite ready yet. That information was irrelevant to Grace because she had no intentions of staying in Louisiana – period. She didn't care what roof was over her head!

Since Nuada picked Grace up out of the rose garden and brought her here three days ago, she hadn't said two words to him. She'd pouted, refusing to eat or drink anything, and she'd spent her entire time hiding in the bedroom he'd carefully prepared for her, usually curled up in a little ball on the floor beside the huge four poster bed. She moved only to take a shower in the private bathroom adjoining it, then went right back to sit and stare blankly out the window. He'd sat in the chair beside that stupid bed for hours trying to reason with her, talking on and on and begging her to listen, but she flatly refused. Tonight, he'd finally had enough.

Grace had the door locked when Nuada went to offer her dinner, and it pissed him off to no end. He didn't ask to be saddled with this human, and she could at least be polite! He'd knocked twice, and when she didn't respond, he'd kicked the door clear off the hinges. She was on the floor by the damn bed again, and he'd snatched her ass right onto her feet. The fight started the second he touched her, and it had progressed from the bedroom to the kitchen, escalating as it went, laying the house to waste in their wake.

He broke one of the night stands when he sent it flying into the wall beside her, right after she ripped the lamp off it with her mind and whipped it past his head so close the cord caught his hair. Rarely did Nuada's temper ever get loose from him, but he was truly pissed off at her, and she was right back at him with all the anger she'd held in for the past several weeks.   
Thankfully, there wasn't much to work with in the bedroom, although Grace did reduce the busted door to sawdust when she went past it to the kitchen. This was much better fight territory, and at that very moment she was throwing every last piece of breakable anything she could get her hands or mind on in that kitchen at him.

Sometime during the mêlée, his cell phone rang, and Nuada snapped it open just long enough to answer yes to Eric when the vampire asked if it would be all right for him and Sookie to stop by. They'd let themselves in when no one answered the door, then froze at the sights and sounds of Grace and Nuada trying to kill each other in the kitchen, both amazed at the soft blue glow Grace was giving off.

Sookie had tried to describe Grace to Eric, but she couldn't possible describe how a flickering blue human looked. Even after a thousand years on earth, Eric was shocked at the sight of Grace. Not even what Nuada told him about her had prepared him for this! Watching her, Eric could see that she was obviously pissed off at his friend to no end. Her tanned hands were throwing one thing after another at him across that huge kitchen, all while screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. He'd seen Sookie throw a few tantrums himself, and this was not unfamiliar territory to Eric. Easing closer, he watched curiously, wondering if Grace would connect with anything and what Nuada would do to her if she did.

"The cabinets are coming down next!" Grace growled out viciously, and Nuada stared at her in disbelief. She wouldn't!

"Don't you dare tear apart this house, you ungrateful little human witch!" He yelled right back at her, ducking the vintage Waterford crystal goblet that flew past. "You will calm yourself down right this minute and listen to me!"

Glistening black eyes just glared back at him, as Grace grabbed the last glass from that cabinet. "You will go fuck yourself you pointy eared asshole! I'm not living here with you!" Grace was daring him to come around the huge kitchen island where she could reach him, but Nuada knew enough not to. "I want my fucking life back! I want my truck and my keys and I'm leaving!" she screeched at him as she reared back to throw.

That glass went flying directly at his face, but Nuada managed to catch it in his hands. "Bitch!" he yelled at her. "You are impossible to deal with!" His emerald eyes were on fire as he sent it right back at her, the glass shards hitting her clothes when it impacted against the ceramic tile backsplash, cracking two of them.

Frantic for something else to throw at him, Grace had just stood up from the wine rack with a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne clutched in her hand when Nuada glimpsed Eric and Sookie. He had never been so relieved! Help was here, and maybe Sookie could help calm her down. This fight had been going on for nearly thirty minutes now, and Grace had already emptied two entire cabinets of exorbitantly expensive crystal. The kitchen was littered with a rainbow of broken shards, and she was ready for more.

"Daro i Erulissë! Stop That! You would not dare!" he growled out at her, desperately wanting her to put down the vintage bottle of champagne.

"I most certainly would you sorry piece of elf speaking shit! Either I go or it does – pick one!" His eyes dared her to throw it, and just as she reared back, Grace found herself firmly locked in a pair of cold male arms. Struggling to get loose, Grace suddenly realized the huge blonde vampire that drained her was now holding her firmly in his arms. Dropping the terribly expensive bottle of champagne from her hands in a resounding thud, she screamed at the top of her lungs, and no one had any idea what to do.

Grace was shaking, terrified out of her mind, and she flamed blue so bright Sookie had to turn away because it hurt her eyes. Nuada was across the kitchen in an instant, simultaneously trading places with Eric to replace cold arms with warm ones, quenching those flames the very instant he touched her. Grace was instantly consumed by a panic attack, convinced Nuada invited the vampire there to kill her.

Eric felt terrible and Nuada quietly told him to take Sookie and make themselves comfortable in the den, so he could calm Grace. Sookie wanted to comfort her cousin, but Eric pulled her away. He'd felt the sharp sting when Grace flamed blue, and no way was Sookie going near Grace until she calmed down. Gently, he led her from the kitchen to the den and settled her on one of the massive couches there, the sumptuous brown leather swallowing them.

In the kitchen, Grace was backed up against the refrigerator, sobbing and struggling to breathe, as she clung to the stainless steel like it was going to save her. Nuada was overwhelmed with guilt as he watched her. After all she'd been through, he should have considering her reaction before inviting Eric over!

Knowing more than anything else Grace needed to feel safe, Nuada held her against him so tight she could hardly draw a breath. She fought at him for a second, then just collapsed against him, crying for everything she was worth, completely overwhelmed by everything she had been through. Holding her there in the completely destroyed kitchen, Nuada just let her cry, kissing her gently on the top of the head and murmuring comforting words to her in elf speak.

"I have told you Erulissë , no one will ever hurt you again." He reassured her. "Eric is my friend, and he is here with Sookie to see how you are doing. He would never think to harm you."

Grace didn't believe him, and she held onto Nuada so tight he wondered if she'd ever let go. Feeling her heart beating wildly against his chest, Nuada began to stroke her back softly, willing her to calm down. One hand found it's way to the nape of her neck, his elegant fingers nestling in the short soft dark hair that fell there, caressing her head as it rested against him. The other continued to stroke her back, the thin tank top offering no real barrier between his fingers and the warmth of her flesh.

Finally, Grace did begin to calm down and gradually softened her hold on him. When she was able to lean away from him slightly, he cupped her tear stained face in his hands. "Do not do this to yourself Erulissë. I swear I will never let anyone hurt you again." His emerald green eyes were locked on hers, and somehow she believed him. Taking her hand, Nuada led her to the kitchen sink, oblivious to the crunching glass beneath their feet. He retrieved a towel from a nearby drawer and dampened it, wiping her face gently. His touch was soft and soothing, and Nuada could feel her relaxing slightly as he did.

One he was satisfied, he took her hand firmly in his. "Now Erulissë, you will come in this den with me and you will meet my friend Eric. You will visit with your cousin Sookie, and you shall be fine." With one final reassuring squeeze to her hand, the pair walked into the den hand in hand. Eric and Sookie watched Grace carefully. She was obviously still upset, but the strange glow was gone. Nuada led Grace to the second massive leather couch, and as he sat, he pulled Grace down beside him.   
Every bit of color drained out of Grace's face as she watched the tall blonde vampire cuddling with her cousin. He was a lot like she remembered from that brief moment her eyes had opened - sharp blue eyes, pale skin and straight blond hair falling to his shoulders. He looked pleasant enough, dressed like an normal person in black jeans and black t-shirt, but Grace was having a real hard time getting past the whole "drank my blood – had your face buried in my crotch thing" they had shared.   
Feeling her eyes on him, Eric met her gaze across the room. "Hello Grace," Eric said politely, careful to keep his voice low and gentle, "so nice to see you again under better circumstances." His words seemed genuine, but Grace gave him a nervous look in return.   
"Hello Eric." She forced herself to answer, her voice strained as she fought to make herself calm down.  
Eric studied Grace intently for a moment, his soft blue eyes taking in every inch of her. This small human woman wasn't what he'd been expecting after hearing Nuada and Sookie describe all the things she could do. She seemed fragile, delicate and broken sitting there, and he understood why Nuada wanted to protect her so badly.   
Sensing his attention completely focused on her, Grace thought her blood would freeze in her veins, and Nuada quickly tightened his grip on her for encouragement. "Grace, I would like to apologize to you for what happened at Fangtasia." Eric told her smoothly, his voice soft and sincere as he spoke. "I am the owner of that establishment, and the ruling vampire Sheriff of this area. I understand things have been very difficult for you since that night, and I want to assure you that you'll never have a problem like that again." His eyes told Grace he meant every word, and Grace found herself believing him. Eric seemed like a very formidable creature, and Grace could clearly see that people would listen to him the same way they listened to Lord Elrond and Lord Niall.   
"Thank you." She whispered, her voice all but trembling under his intense gaze. Nuada knew Eric was sincere in his apology, and was glad he offered it. Hopefully it would help Grace get over the attack and move on with her life. It also reinforced what he'd been trying to tell her these past few days. Grace would be safe here in Louisiana, she had people here who could protect her, and this was where she needed to stay.  
Nuada also knew sitting there was straining her emotional limits to the breaking point, and he did everything possible to comfort her. She was still trembling, so he snuggled Grace close against him on the couch, one arm carefully resting around her shoulders, the other crossing in front of him and holding her hand. He greeted the couple warmly, Eric and him falling into conversation easily like the great friends they had become.   
Grace found herself shocked at the familiarity between the two. Obviously Nuada had gotten around quite a bit since he came to Shreveport! It made her that much more uncomfortable, and in response, Nuada just pulled Grace even closer, and began chatting with the vampire about the weather. Grace was in a mild state of shock, but the gentle rubbing of Nuada's fingers against hers finally did help her relax. It took some time, but she finally found herself deep in conversation with Sookie about the latest things going on in Bon Temps, and at Merlotte's where she worked.   
As the four sat together and talked in the den, they were just like any two normal couples. The strange exception being that these two couples consisted of two humans, one vampire and one elf! Listening to Eric talk, Grace had to admit the vampire seemed quite normal. If she hadn't known he was a vampire, she would never have guessed. His pale skin was the only hint, but it actually was no lighter than Nuada's. He was courteous, polite and obviously well educated. He also doted on Sookie, and his affections for her were easy to see. She simply glowed when she looked at him, and Grace was glad that her cousin was so happy.  
Nuada seemed to enjoy his company, listening attentively as Eric told him about the latest goings on at Fangtasia and the various business dealings he was involved in. Fangtasia was a very popular tourist spot, and was filled to capacity every night by humans and vampires alike. It kept Eric extremely busy, but he always had time for Sookie, and he didn't hesitate tonight when she told him she wanted to go see Grace.   
"Nuada, you shall have to bring Grace along with you one night." he told the elf, turning to look at the still nervous human on the couch. "Grace, come on a night when Sookie is there if it makes you more comfortable, although I can assure you it is quite safe."   
His invitation brought an approving look and smile from Nuada. Grace's new guardian definitely wanted her to relax around Eric, and hoped she would agree to go one night. Eric was not the only one who could assure Grace she would be in absolutely no danger if she returned to that bar, because Nuada knew if another vampire ever threatened Grace, he would personally kill them. Once it got past midnight, the visiting couple stood to leave, and Nuada stood as well. Obviously, Grace had to peel herself off him, and she finally did with great reluctance.   
Nuada kept hold of Grace's hand as they followed the other couple to the door, the men exchanging their goodbyes, while Grace and Sookie did the same. Sookie suggested they meet for lunch one day later that week, and Grace agreed although she had no idea how she might accomplish that without her truck. Before Eric stepped through the door, he paused and looked over Grace intently again. Reaching toward her, he tilted her chin back with his fingers and looked over the nearly faded bruises on her face, and the slowly healing tears on her neck. It infuriated him that she suffered such damage at his bar - in his territory - and he was thankful she had survived. Seeing the ridiculous amount of scars running over her, he also wondered just how bad that car wreck she'd been in was.   
"Meeting you tonight was quite the surprise Grace. I do hope you continue to feel better, and I must admit, while Sookie told me what a smurf was, I've never seen a human turn blue before." His voice was serious when he spoke to her, his soft blue eyes still looking over her skin, wondered what made her turn that color.  
His touch brought pure chills to Grace's spine and carefully her big grey eyes came up to meet his soft blue ones as she reached up and pointedly pushed his hand away from her, the cold feeling of his fingers on her skin a little more than she could take. "Well, you're not the only one who's surprised." She told him sarcastically. "I've never seen anyone walk and talk who doesn't breathe."   
Her southern voice drawled out the words, and while Nuada was embarrassed to no end by her rude remark, Eric thought it was hilarious. He started to chuckle, then finally dissolved into full blown laughter. Few people would ever dare to speak to him in such a manner, but somehow coming from Sookie's cousin it was acceptable. Eric continued to laugh softly, and with one final bright smile from Sookie, they were gone.   
No sooner had the door closed, than Grace had her hand clamped over her heart. She could feel it pounding, threatening her with it's racing, and she wondered if she was going to have another panic attack right then and there. Everything was closing in on her at once, and she fought to try and stay calm.  
Nuada was watching her with both concern and surprise. He couldn't believe she'd been brazen enough to smart off at Eric, then he remembered how she jumped in Haldir's face the first day he ever met her and realized there weren't too many things Grace was truly scared of. Seeing the terrible frown on her face, he sensed her sudden apprehension and it surprised him. "Are you ok Erulissë?" he asked, "what upsets you?"  
Suddenly Grace found herself facing the knowledge that these people "helping" her had more money and power than she could even begin to comprehend. She was out of her league and out of place, trapped and completely unable to do anything about it. Seeing Sookie tonight had been wonderful, but meeting Eric only served to reinforce the terrible things that had happened to her. Looking around the den, she was completely overwhelmed. The entire house was overwhelming, but that den was the coup de grâce. The enormous room had ceilings soaring to nearly twenty feet with dark red walls as elegant as the deep hardwood floors gleaming in all their exotic richness. There was a gigantic stone fireplace on the far wall with the most unusual and expensive looking rug in front of it Grace had ever seen, along with sumptuous massive deep brown leather furniture and ornately carved dark wooden tables. She felt like she was in a museum, not a house and wondered how all of this could be real.  
"This is just too much for me to take Nuada." She answered in a nervous whisper. "I don't belong here." Grace had mental images of unbelievable social occasions with finely polished women dripping in jewels and furs draped over that ridiculous furniture with elegant rich men hovering by their sides, and it made her nauseous . . . she was barefoot with no makeup on, in cut off jeans and a black tank top.   
Nuada stepped closer, his green eyes glimmering down at her in the soft light filtering from the numerous lamps that sprinkled throughout the den. "Erulissë, you need not worry yourself about such things. You are the great-grandchild of Lord Niall, and you have every right to be in this place." Hoping his words would settle her, he inclined his head to her politely, then stepped away and headed for his own bedroom.   
Considering his words, Grace watching him walk away, then called out to him softly. "Nuada, before you go . . ."   
He turned back and looked at her curiously. It was the first time Grace had voluntarily spoken to him outside of screaming curse words at him earlier. "Yes Erulissë?" he answered with a frown, desperately hoping they weren't going to pick back up where they left off earlier with the argument.   
She looked at him, her grey eyes glowing in the dim light of the lamps. "Nuada, thank you for helping me tonight." The sentiment was genuine, and he knew it.  
His frown deepened as he tilted his head and looked at her curiously. Deep green eyes flashed back at her, positive Grace was not the type who thanked people very often. "You are most welcome Erulissë . . . you did very well tonight yourself. I am proud of you."   
Grace smiled slightly at his words, hoping he spoke the truth. She would probably have collapsed of a heart attack if he hadn't saved her tonight, and she hoped the bond they forged on that balcony in Rivendell would indeed hold true now that they were here in Shreveport. Staring at him in the soft light, Grace suddenly realized just how gorgeous the strange man standing in front of her was, and she blushed fire red at the thoughts that came to mind. She'd been wrapped in his arms for the last several hours and it had felt wonderful.

He just laughed softly at her, shaking his head. "Erulissë, you are full of surprises! Now please rest, and we shall speak in the morning."

***************************************

Morning came a lot sooner than Nuada expected. When he looked at his clock and saw that it was four am, he was more than a little aggravated. Scrape . . . scrape . . . scrape . . . scrape.

It was the strangest sound he'd heard in a long time, and laying in bed staring at the ceiling, Nuada had absolutely no idea what it was. Giving up, he slid from the bed and silently went in search of the sounds, finally finding himself in the kitchen. Grace was carefully taking a dustpan and scraping the pieces of broken glass off the countertops and into a trashcan. He struggled to completely wake up, wondering why she didn't just go to sleep and leave it for the maid.

Easing farther into the kitchen, he slid onto one of the barstools, and watched her. Suddenly he realized that she was dressed for bed, even though she wasn't in it. The stunning new coral colored baby doll nightie was something she'd bought at the mall as soon as she arrived on vacation. Considering the stressful night she'd had, Grace put it on before finding herself completely unable to sleep. She wasn't paying her clothes one bit of attention as she cleaned up the glass, but Nuada certainly was.

The thin spaghetti straps showed up in sharp contrast to her darkly tanned skin, the wide satin band that clung to her flesh around the top of it shimmered in the light, and from there what seemed to be yards of lustrous coral colored lace swirled around her as she moved, the hemline ruffle barely skimming the top of her thighs. The lace wasn't see through, but it wasn't entirely opaque either, and Nuada was catching tantalizing glimpses of what was underneath.

The sharp breath he sucked in let her know he was there, and Grace turned around. Running her eyes over him, she found herself appreciating the fact that he was dressed for bed too. The black silk pajama bottoms set his pale skin off to perfection, the muscles rippling across his chest as his hands rubbed his temples made her heart race, and those drowsy green eyes almost made it stop beating entirely. Stopping her cleaning for a moment, she ran her eyes over him in a very frank appraisal and he blushed. A slight smile touched the corners of her mouth when he did, and he couldn't help but smile back.

That gorgeous body was the reason she was doing this. After snuggling with him on the couch for a couple of hours, Grace found it absolutely impossible to go to sleep. Suddenly her body ached to be held again, to be loved and touched the way it had been those nights in Rivendell, and she felt herself burning with need like she never had before.

"You can leave that for the maid." He told her firmly, knowing she obviously did not intend to.

Grace's deeply rooted southern manners would never allow her to leave such a mess for someone else to clean up, and she ignored him, sliding the last pan of glass shards into the trash. "I'm done anyway. Why aren't you asleep?" Grace was actually being friendly, and Nuada couldn't believe it. Those very glass shards she was cleaning up had been meant to hurt him only a few hours before.

"Well Erulissë, it is difficult to sleep when someone is in the kitchen scraping on the floor and the counters with a metal pan." He told her smugly, and she laughed at him.

"Thought you might want to get in here in the morning – you may want some coffee or something." Her voice was kind, and Nuada was genuinely surprised. She'd thought of him when she cleaned up the glass, and was actually making an effort to be civil.

"Le hannon Erulissë. Thank you - I do not drink coffee, but it is a very kind gesture." He was smiling warmly at her now, and Grace felt better. She'd thoroughly trashed his kitchen and on top of the door he'd kicked in and the table they broke, she thought she'd done enough damage for one day.

Putting away the cleaning supplies, she checked the granite counters one more time to be sure she didn't miss anything, then grabbed a drink from the fridge and slid onto a bar stool across from Nuada. Popping it open, Nuada watched in surprise as she started drinking it. To his knowledge, that was the first thing she'd had since coming here. "Would you care for something to eat?" he asked her, hoping she would say yes. She nodded that she didn't, and knew he was disappointed.

"Tonight, you must allow me to take you to dinner . . . would you lend me that pleasure Erulissë?" His green eyes were intent on her as he asked, that tiny little satin bow right in the middle of that nightie not lost on him as he looked over at her. He wanted Grace to get out of this house, and start getting back in the routine of a normal life. That wasn't all he found himself wanting either . . .

She studied him across the island. There were things Grace wanted too. "I'll only go if we take my truck." She countered him, desperate to know where her beloved vehicle was. Her comment forced Nuada's mind to attention. She hadn't asked about it, not even once, but obviously she'd been thinking about it. He leaned back on the bar stool and stared at her, disturbed that she did not trust him enough to ask even a basic question of him.

"If you wanted to know about your truck Erulissë, you needed only ask." Nuada had given her a gentle look. "Erulissë, you may ask me anything. Never forget that."

Grace leaned back on her bar stool and stared right back at him. "You know Nuada you haven't told me one thing since I got here, not even what city I'm in, although I'm guessing I'm somewhere in Shreveport since Sookie and Eric came by." She told him softly. "You told me my apartment was gone, and I don't even know where my furniture or clothes are. I don't have my computer, and I haven't even seen my mail or paid my bills in nearly a month. How can you possibly expect me to live this way?" Her voice was sharp, but there was a distinct sadness to it and it hurt Nuada terribly to hear it.

Staring at her over the granite, Nuada suddenly realized she was telling the truth. She'd been snatched from one world to another and back again with no consideration of her feelings or her things whatsoever, and now she didn't even know where her own clothes were. He hadn't even considered she might have financial obligations, and he felt like a complete ass. No wonder she was screaming and throwing things!

"Goheno nin Erulissë! Forgive me! I am so sorry Erulissë!" He actually blushed he was so embarrassed, and his normally impeccable manners somewhat failed him. "We shall begin again." he told her firmly. "Yes, you are returned to Shreveport. We are in one of the properties that belong to your great-grandfather, but as I have been trying to tell you, this is not where you are to stay permanently. Please . . . if you have questions, I shall gladly answer them."

Grace frowned at him. She had hundreds of questions, and she knew he wasn't gonna sit there and answer all of them, but at least they were opening up the lines of communication. "Alright Nuada - where is my truck, and where is everything I own?"

Nuada had been trying to tell Grace where her things were for the past three days, she'd just refused to listen, but he'd repeat his words one more time. "A home has been secured for you Erulissë. It may or may not be what you would prefer, but for now it should fulfill your needs. Your things are there, but they are still packed from shipping. There is work to be done before you move in, that is why you are staying here for now. The painters are supposed to start on Monday . . . perhaps tonight when I take you to dinner, I could also take you to the house . . . would you allow me to do that please?"

Giving him a warning stare, Grace looked at Nuada across the counter. She was determined she would not lose her temper, and fought to remain calm even though she was beginning to flame under the bright fluorescent kitchen lights. The idea that some strangers had simply gone to her apartment and packed up every single thing she owned, and drug it halfway across the country infuriated her to no end, and she struggled not to start screaming at him again.

"I'll play your game Nuada." She told him flatly. "You want me to go to dinner with you? Fine. Ya'll want me to live in Shreveport . . . we'll see . . . I'm not going to argue that after all the weird shit I've seen I might actually need the protection you speak so highly of. But before I do anything, I want to know when I'm going to see Haldir again."

It wasn't the question Nuada expected, and he was stunned for a moment. Obviously, this was going to be a give and take situation between them – she gave, but only if she got in return. Crossing his arms across his chest, he found himself irritated at her request. There was no discussion with Lord Niall or Lord Elrond of Grace ever seeing Haldir again once she returned home. He personally wanted her to forget about Haldir and Rivendell, and concentrate on her human life. That was not her world, and Nuada did not intend for her to return – ever.

"I shall make some inquires Erulissë. Acceptable?"

Grace only nodded, then quickly left the kitchen for her bedroom. She'd had enough pleasant conversation for one night, and she was struggling not to break down as the realization she no longer lived in South Carolina threatened to overwhelm her.


	13. Scars, Cars & Shingled Surprises

Chapter 13 - Scars, Cars and Shingled Surprises

"Saes, if you will get changed, Erulissë, we shall go to dinner," Nuada said politely, "Thirty minutes?"

Grace was sitting in the kitchen staring intently at the screen of her laptop and didn't look up, only nodding her agreement, knowing he was not going to accept no for an answer. She'd heard Nuada come in, but she was far too engrossed to tear herself away from her e-mails, and it wasn't like she needed to look up to know what he looked like anyway . . . Every time she saw the man, he was wearing some variation of black dress pants and a black button up dress shirt, looking like something straight off the pages of GQ magazine. It was disconcerting to say the least!

Nuada cleared his throat pointedly, and Grace reluctantly relented, passing him a rather impatient glance as she slid from the bar stool and headed to her bedroom. As expected, he looked fabulous, a fact that was burning into her brain as she stripped off her standard clothing of tank top and jean shorts to stand with hands on her hips wondering what to replace them with. What in hell was good enough to wear out to dinner with THAT creature?

Frowning, Grace forgot the clothes and headed to the bathroom, making a stern promise to herself as she carefully put on some makeup that she would be nice to Nuada this evening. She'd given him a very hard time since coming to stay here, but their conversation last night seemed to get them headed in the right direction, and he'd really surprised her that morning. Nuada was gone when Grace got up, but when she came from her bedroom around noon, she'd found every piece of mail she'd gotten since leaving for vacation and her laptop waiting for her on the kitchen island.

It had been a welcome relief to see anything familiar, and she'd spent the day going through everything, paying her bills online, checking her bank accounts and finally answering about a hundred emails. There were people in Charleston who wanted her to do design work for them, but unfortunately she wasn't available right now. She'd made up a lame excuse about the illness of a relative and being out of town for an extended period of time and emailed it to everyone – she wondered how long the excuse would work, and she wondered what the hell she was going to put on as she stood staring into the meager contents of her suitcases . . .

Finally Grace remembered that during the three days she spent in Shreveport prior to becoming fangfood, she made a rather fruitful trip to the mall, so she began tearing through the cases, thankful beyond comprehension when she found her shopping bags carefully folded into the bottom of the second one. She had no idea she owed Nuada personal thanks for that act of kindness – among many others – but she was certainly grateful when she rummaged through them, finding an outfit that she hoped was acceptable.

Grace was back on the computer typing yet another lie to a design friend when Nuada reappeared in the kitchen a short time later, and she looked up curiously to see what he'd put on – not surprised in the least at what she found. In what she was accepting to be standard Nuada form, the immaculate creature was dressed impeccably as always in yet another disgustingly well fitting pair of black dress pants and black silk shirt, and of course, to notch up the obnoxious factor, he'd added a breathtaking black leather sportscoat. Well – shit!

Feeling incredibly self-conscious, Grace forgot the e-mail for a moment, surprising herself as she sat appreciating just how damn good her new guardian looked. The black of his clothes set his pale skin and glowing blond hair off to perfection, and Grace actually felt a little warm when she realized just how sexy the man looked standing there. There wasn't a woman alive who wasn't gonna be staring at his ass when they walked into a restaurant!

"Are you ready, Erulissë?" Nuada prompted her gently, typing a text message on his phone, completely oblivious to her attention.

Having lost her train of thought entirely, Grace quickly snapped out of it, tapping out the final words to send her own email, then slipping off the barstool in preparation to leave. Instinctively, she looked around for her purse, but then realized she did not have it. Frowning in disgust at yet another reminder that her things were scattered about and others had been plundering through them, she growled out a curse, slapping her hands on her hips in disgust.

"It is in your truck," Nuada told her, instinctively slipping the irritating thought from her mind, and answering it. That only brought a louder curse, and he glanced up from his BlackBerry, then froze as he took a good look at her.

The bruises on her face were almost gone, and Grace had taken particular care with her makeup, the black eyeliner and mascara setting off her grey eyes to perfection. A touch of blush and lip gloss were all it took for her tanned skin to glow, and she'd actually passed over a new Capri outfit and chosen a dress just to screw with him. It was a beautiful young flirty style done in satin twill with tiny flower shaped clusters of rhinestones set around the sleeveless scooped yoke neck. The body hung in soft pleats and hit her about half way up her thighs and it was bright. She liked it because of the cheerful, summery color and the fact that there were simple pockets on the sides, and she'd slipped on a pair of little silver sandals with it, hoping it was acceptable – and judging from the stunned expression on Nuada's face it was.

"You stare any harder and something's gonna break," she teased him sarcastically, hoping that was an expression of pleasant surprise etching his forehead.

Thankfully, he smiled. "It is quite a change, Erulissë! And a very nice one at that!" He remained quite pleasant as he put away his cell phone, politely opening the front door for her, then carefully guiding her into an elevator. This was the first time Grace had been outside in nearly a week, and he watched her curiously as she studied everything around her, listening to that little mind just working as the elevator descended. Arriving at the bottom, Nuada waited politely for her to step out, anxious to see her reaction to the next surprise he had waiting for her today.

Grace was just standing there, staring at him a bit uncertainly in the evening sun, but when he shifted those magnificent emerald eyes rather pointedly to the side, she followed suit – and saw her truck. She'd never been so excited to see a vehicle in all her life, and if there hadn't been witnesses, she probably would've run over and kissed it. "Oh honey! Have you missed me?" she squealed excitedly, humoring Nuada to no end as she literally beamed back at him before quickly rushing over to inspect it.

Nuada still could not believe she drove such a ridiculous vehicle, and he stood watching with great interest as she walked around and around it, considering every inch as she continued to smile happily. It was the very first time Nuada had seen Grace smile since leaving Rivendell, and he quickly realized that while his new human ward obviously cared less than nothing for proper clothing or discreet language, Grace loved that vehicle like it was a member of her family. He shook his head in consideration. The human truly was full of unique surprises, and had he known this one simple act could make her happy, he would've gladly returned it to her a whole lot sooner!

Quite relieved by her increasingly pleasant frame of mind, Nuada was smiling softly when he unlocked the truck door and retrieved her purse, pleased he had managed to do something to make her at least a bit happy. "Here you are, Erulissë," he told her graciously, handing her the keys and her pocketbook. "Your truck and purse are returned, and I am most pleased that it has delighted you so . . . but now I am escorting you to dinner, therefore I shall drive."

The words threatened to choke Nuada as he casually motioned toward a car parked several spaces away. He did not typically drive, although he knew how, preferring to use the much more efficient method of elven instant transportation than a primitive human one. And truth be known, if he was going to drive somewhere, it would never have been to escort a female to dinner – but in light of the circumstances, he was going to bend every personal rule and do this – or so he thought.

Still beaming from having her beloved truck back, Grace turned to look where Nuada indicated, but the instant her eyes locked on that silver BMW Series 7 sedan, she felt as if she would throw up. To Nuada, it was nothing more than one of the company vehicles belonging to Lord Niall and Lord Elrond to ferry business associates if needed, but to Grace it was a literal hell on wheels, and her smile froze then faded as her eyes stopped twinkling with laughter and went cold as stone. Grace got deathly pale, and started trembling all over, and it seemed as if she might honestly swoon right there.

It was the very last thing Nuada expected, and he didn't have an inkling what was happening – the girl was as upset by seeing that car as she'd been at seeing Eric! "Erulissë?" he inquired, deeply concerned, "Erulissë, speak to me! What is wrong?"

Unfortunately, Grace couldn't even form a response. The mere sight of a silver BMW on the road was enough to give her shivers, and now she was facing one of the damn cars only a few yards away from her, and her new guardian was expecting her to get INTO it – which was never, ever going to happen. Transfixed by horrible memories, she silently backed away, staring like it was going to attack her, paling further with every step until finally coming to rest pressed against the door of her truck, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I am never getting in that car," she murmured in a shaking voice.

Stunned by the transformation, Nuada decided this was one of those times where etiquette fell by the wayside and a thorough exploration of her mind was necessary, and the powerful guardian was in front of her in an instant, blocking her view of the obviously insulting vehicle as he gently took her face into his hands and touched her mind. Their auras met in a gentle mingling of flames, but he found himself instantly overrun by a torrent of vile images doused with gutwrenching emotion . . . tearing metal, sick crunches, and paralyzing pain . . . it was terrible, but it quickly explained why she drove such a large truck . . . and why Laurel Grace was terrified of silver BMW's.

***************************************

 _Car accidents are never fun, but for the human race that relies so heavily on automobiles to get them from point A to point B, they are simply a fact of life – and so are stupid tourists who come down for the summer and don't know how to drive. Thirty-five years in South Carolina spent happily hovering within the roughly hundred mile radius of the beach community where Grace grew up had given her plenty of reason to make fun of these jerks, and the locals even had sarcastic bumper stickers printed up to tease them – "You've seen our beach, now go home!"_

These alien creatures, summer invaders to the steamy sandy thing that was summer in South Carolina were too often preoccupied with the screaming kid in the back of the SUV or the damn GPS telling them they missed a turn to actually bother driving their car, and while it was usually funny to sit at the bar and watch them scurry to and fro, going round and round in circles as they struggled to find their hotel, their tacky t-shirts and sunburns providing endless amusement, there was absolutely nothing funny about the dumbass that ran a red light five years ago and hit her.

The sun had been beautiful that late Spring day, clear blue skies, warm salt air . . . everything Grace could have hoped for when she pulled away from the construction firm and headed off to lunch. Growing up on an island, she had always been fascinated by the huge old beach cottages, finding herself drawn to the timeless architecture that went into creating them, so college had naturally progressed into studies of that interest and after graduating, she'd gone to work on the mainland with a well known construction firm. Carefully sketching out the luxurious beach homes the custom homebuilder created suited her, and Grace devoted herself to it, her new job naturally leading to a new car - and that little silver BMW 328i was everything Grace ever wanted.

Grace chose the BMW not just because it was fun to drive but because of its great safety ratings, but five stars didn't make a bit of difference that afternoon, because as she sat waiting to turn at a red light, some idiot cruised right through going nearly 60mph and drove over that pretty little silver car in his big white Suburban. Both cars had crumpled like a paper sack under the force of it, and Grace crumpled right along with it, actually breaking her back among other things. She was left terribly scarred, and the three months she'd spent in rehab had certainly sucked to monumental proportions, but when she left, she was smiling and walking, and for that Grace would forever be grateful.

Needing time to heal, Grace never went back to work in an office, choosing to do contract architectural jobs from home instead, and while the accident certainly was never something she would appreciate happening to her, it did have two positive outcomes. Firstly, it allowed Lord Niall to find her, and secondly, it allowed her to spend time doting on her father while the sand and surf finished healing her. It nearly killed her when he passed some two years back, and shortly afterward, she'd sold their oceanfront beach cottage, having no desire to live in such a huge home alone or to be saddled with the financial responsibility of upkeep and taxes. Property like that was very valuable, and in combination with the insurance settlement, it gave her enough money to live on for the rest of her life if she was careful, so soon she was quietly settled into a one bedroom apartment, occupying her nights with close friends and architectural work, while spending the vast majority of her daylight hours in a lounge chair.

Unfortunately transportation was much more important after her move, and while it was certainly nice and functional, Grace reluctantly acknowledged that her father's four door sedan, certainly did not fit her modern, young woman image. There was just something so entirely unappealing about heading down to the neighborhood bar in your dad's car, so after intensive nail biting and relentless soul searching, Grace had decided on a solitary splurge – heading off to car shop, determined she would buy something big enough that by god the next stupid idiot that came flying her way would suffer just as much damage as she did.

It took a few days, but Grace found exactly what she was looking for when she went to the local Cadillac dealership and that utterly obnoxious Escalade EXT just spoke to her. It was the truck version with every available option right down to the sunroof, it was black, it was a demo she could get a fantastic deal on, and she bought the thing - even going so far as to suffer a moment of lost lucidity and be lured by the salesman to have it sent to a custom shop and fully detailed to her specifications.

Trey Lockhardt at Carolina Customs had treated her like family, taking the girl and the truck under his wing. He'd taken on the project personally, trimmed out the interior of that Cadillac with beautiful chrome and woodgrain, then blacking out the entire exterior, turning it into a gothic masterpiece on wheels. The windows were heavily tinted, the chrome grill replaced with a custom black one with a hand tooled design he spent countless hours creating, the chrome rims shed in preference of custom black ones and cool new tires, then he'd layered on a smattering of hand cut graphics they designed together, decorating the windows and the sides, even heading the windshield with Grace's preferred slogan – Southern Comfort.

By the time she'd driven away listening to her brand new fully customized stereo system, Grace had gained one of the best friends she could've ever hoped for - along with one of the more safe and eye-catching vehicles on the road – but even being pressed against the side of it was doing nothing to quell Grace's fear at that particular moment, because she honestly felt like her old silver BMW was haunting her from a few spaces over.

***************************************

It took mere seconds to know everything, and Nuada soothed her mind with his own as he gently pulled her into his arms, feeling her heart pounding in fear just as it had the night before. "You will never see it again," he assured her, knowing that from this moment forward, she would never react so violently to seeing any other one either. Being a powerful supernatural creature had its fringe benefits, and it was times like these that they came in extremely handy – and he'd just used his extraordinary power of mind control to twist those horrid memories into a neat little bundle and tuck them far, far into the back of her mind. He would most assuredly have that car gone before they returned, but Grace wasn't going to panic when she saw another one, of that he was quite certain!

Grace clung to him for a moment longer, feeling ridiculous that a stupid car could do this to her, but as the feelings faded, she quickly pulled away, finding the fact that she somehow kept ending up in this man's arms to be most unacceptable. "I'm sorry," she murmured, still refusing to even look in the car's direction. "I know it's stupid, but . . ."

He immediately hushed her. "Never apologize for something such as that," he told her firmly, watching her face with his head tilted in that peculiar way. "Better now?" he asked softly, knowing she was, even before she nodded.

"Looks like I'm gonna be the one escorting you to dinner, huh?" Grace offered jokingly, although her voice still trembled.

He smiled and nodded his concession, offering her a teasing wink. "Indeed you are! My first time being taken to dinner by a female . . . you must promise to be gentle."

Grace laughed, and he did too, heading around to the passenger side to climb in. This was truly turning out to be an evening of surprises, and they hadn't even left yet, so Nuada could only wonder how eventful it would be before it ended. He'd conceded much by even agreeing to this, but he already knew he'd made a very wise decision. Grace was out of the house, smiling and agreeing to eat, and the lines of communication between them seemed to be strengthening, so while it had not come in the typical ways he would have expected, he was quite thankful for the progress.

The smile had returned by the time they were both situated in the truck, and when the big engine roared to life, Grace actually felt normal again. She reached into the overhead compartment and slipped on her Maui Jim's to fend off the lowering sun and once again beamed at Nuada. "What kind of music do you listen to?" she asked him, casually throwing off her shoes as she adjusted the seat and mirrors, then popped the sunroof open.

Nuada assured her he had no preferences about music or what they ate, finding himself met by the sounds of Jimmy Buffett as he offering some basic directions and they pulled away. As she drove, Grace was plundering through her truck relentlessly, checking to see that all of her things were intact, then plugging in her long dead cell phone so she could check her messages, and Nuada found himself with a prime opportunity to study his human ward in a much different and more natural environment – and he was very surprised by what he found.

The truck actually did suit her perfectly now that he saw her in it and knew the history behind it, and Nuada could tell it put her at ease. The windows were cracked, the wind was blowing that short hair around, and Grace was yet again barefoot – something that seemed inherently suited to her. The dangling pink ladybug earrings she'd put in were dancing in the wind, the beach themed music was playing, and Nuada could easily picture her on the island where he'd first found her, just leaving to have dinner with the waves lapping behind her - although Nuada still couldn't entirely grasp the fact that this particular dinner was going to be with him, and that she was the one driving him to it!

Eric Northman had already almost scared his pants off in that damn red Corvette, and Nuada found himself still trying to digest this obsession with automobiles his new group of friends shared as Grace whipped that truck through traffic heading into the main part of Shreveport, nonchalantly chatting with him as she slid from lane to lane, considering the various restaurants. She was calm, comfortable, almost happy, but he was growing increasingly tense, his fingers subconsciously clutching the seat. There was a dramatic difference between being driven around in a stretch limousine as he was accustomed to in Los Angeles when seeing clients – or even hurling down the road at breakneck speed at the side of a vampire with impeccable reflexes and perfect night vision – to being dragged through rush hour traffic in the front of a Cadillac truck by a little human girl with a penchant for temper tantrums!

Grace was completely oblivious to his tension, but by the time they hit restaurant row, he would've eaten road kill to get out for a few minutes and collect himself, and it took no encouragement whatsoever for Nuada to agree when Grace asked him if Outback was suitable. He blurted out "yes" so fast she actually gave him a funny look, and he was thankful to begin breathing normally again when she finally slipped the truck into a parking space. Prying his fingers from the leather, he climbed out and shut the door, silently thanking the Valar that he survived and knowing the next time he offered to feed this girl it would be takeout – and it would be delivered!

Forcing a pleasant smile, he came round the truck, guiding her inside to be seated in a booth and supplied with menus. He was now perfectly at ease, but Grace took up where he left off, her nerves starting to rear their ugly little heads. While she had a number of friends, Grace did very little dating – none in fact – and it seemed strikingly peculiar to be sitting in a restaurant having dinner with a man, especially one that was non-human at that! Suddenly revising the oddity of her situation, she hardly knew how to act, and grew very nervous, but Nuada sensed her discomfort and reached across the table to grasp her hand in his.

"It is alright Erulissë," he told her softly. "I eat the same as you, and you will be fine."

Grace took a deep breath, forcing herself to settle and return his pleasant look before concentrating on the menu in front of her. It was actually a great relief to have Nuada's comforting hand in hers, but that relief soon dissolved. While the bruises on her face were nearly gone, the scars on her neck were quite prominent, and their curious waitress was finding new and increasingly annoying ways to come to the table to openly gape at them - right along with the couple seated across from them – their eyes alternating from her various scars to the huge healing tears on her neck. After she made increasingly bug-eyed trips to take their orders, bring the bread, offer them straws then sit their salads in front of them, Grace was so angry she felt like she'd catch on fire right where she sat.

Sensing her growing displeasure, Nuada skimmed her thoughts, suddenly understanding so much more about Grace than he ever had before. This human was different. She didn't want pity the way most humans did, she wanted no part of it in fact, refusing to accept even a sympathetic glance and it surprised him. Most humans competed to see who could be the most pitiful. There were televisions shows dedicated to that very subject - competitions almost to see who could be the saddest, the most desperate - yet here was a human who clearly deserved pity and sympathy, yet she wanted none of it. Grace couldn't stand people looking at her scars, and that was why she had been so infuriated at him over the bath in Rivendell. Her pain was her own, and she did not intend to share it – something Nuada personally related to – and those nosy glances ate her alive, making her so mad she couldn't stand it.

Diverting his attentions from the table to the other guests, Nuada immediately noticed the prying stares too, and quickly became as agitated as she was. Coming to his feet, he came round the table and stood beside her. "Slide over, Erulissë" he told her firmly, waiting for her to slip across the seat then sitting down beside her, using his body to effectively block her from everyone's view - including the annoying waitress.

"Better?" he asked kindly.

Grace cast a malicious peek around him, waiting for the waitress to head their way again then jerking a chair into her path, causing her to hit the floor with a satisfying crash. She landed square in the middle of a huge pile of food, a blooming onion now squashed into the front of her shirt, steaks and the remnants of baked potatoes littering the floor. "As a matter of fact, yes," Grace answered smugly.

Nuada's eyebrows went up a bit as he now turned to stare, but he flipped right back to Grace, trying his best to look serious as he scolded her, but failing miserably. "You should be ashamed to use your talents for such mischief," he whispered, but the words were soon accompanied with chuckles, and he ended up fighting to stifle a pure fit of laughter as Grace just sat there and stared back at him, innocent as a kitten. "I shall have to tell Lord Niall of this, he does truly appreciate such shenanigans!"

His eyes were dancing with laughter, and Grace couldn't help but smile back at him, genuinely appreciating his efforts to soothe her. "Thank you, Nuada," she told him, "for everything."

"Anything for you, Erulissë," he answered brightly. "And I should have told you earlier . . . you look beautiful tonight."

Grace couldn't help but blush at the compliment, and the remainder of their meal progressing quite pleasantly, the change in their seating arrangement and the assignment of a new waitress working wonders for Grace, helping her to completely relax and actually enjoy both her food and his company. Nuada carefully steered their conversation to simple, pleasant things and it flowed easily, leaving them both surprised and pleased with the other by the time the meal ended.

Nuada was a brilliant companion, able to talk about anything and nothing, quite intelligent about both the elven and earth worlds, and Grace found herself deeply impressed, feeling very lucky to know him, while Nuada found himself equally pleased by Grace. Removed from Rivendell and released from the mental torment of being trapped between himself and Haldir, Grace was revealing herself to be a completely different person. Placing her bad temper and foul mouth aside, she was a very thoughtful and intelligent person, and she certainly did not fit the shallow mold he felt human women normally did. Nuada found himself genuinely liking her, and there were very few creatures he could claim that for.

They left the restaurant smiling and chatting pleasantly, but as they reentered the Cadillac, tension returned to both of them. Although Grace had shown herself to be a quite safe driver, Nuada was a bit hesitant to face the ride back, while Grace was concerned about this house Nuada spoke of. She assumed he wanted to go there next.

"Did you want to go see the house you mentioned?" she asked him as she put the keys in.

He looked at her uncertainly over the console. It had been such a pleasant evening, he didn't want this to ruin it. "Only if you truly desire to see it, Erulissë. If the thought upsets you, then we shall simply set the idea aside for now . . . you may remain where you are for as long as you would like." Nuada was extending an olive branch to her, and he hoped she took it. He'd thought a lot about Grace this morning after their talk in the kitchen, and he was determined to handle things differently with her now. There would be no more forcing Grace to do anything. She would have input and she would agree, or it would not happen.

Grace looked at him uncertainly. She appreciated the offer, but she could tell this house was something very important to Nuada, and she didn't want to upset him either. Things had improved dramatically between them over the past twenty-four hours, and she wanted to keep it that way. "Do you want me to go see it?" she asked seriously.

"I would like for you to look at it, yes," he answered honestly. "Your things are there, and I believe you might feel more comfortable if you saw that they are safe."

"Then we'll go see it," she told him firmly, pleased when he broke into a genuine smile in the passenger seat. "And I'll drive slower on the way," she added mischievously, delighting when he blushed.

Punching the address he offered into the GPS, they were soon traveling to a quieter area of Shreveport, and it wasn't long before she found herself pulling the Cadillac onto the concrete driveway of a very pretty simple little white house. No sooner had her truck come to a complete stop in the driveway than Lord Niall was suddenly standing there, looking like a cat that just ate a canary. It was a bit of a surprise, and Grace looked a touch addled when she slid from the truck and Nuada came round to stand beside her.

"Hello, Child! You are looking wonderful this evening," Niall greeted warmly, grasping one of her hands and pulling it to his mouth for a gentle kiss. "So what do you think, Grace? This is your new home . . . my gift to you. I do hope you can find happiness here."

Grace shifted her eyes from the house to stare at her great-grandfather like he was an alien, freshly descended from the stars. "Gift?" she repeated incredulously. "You mean this is your house, and I'm just gonna stay here for a while . . . right?"

"Why no, child," Niall corrected gently. "You need a place that is close to your real family and safe, so indeed I have purchased this house for you. Is it not acceptable? Do you not care for it?"

"You bought me a house?" Grace gasped, oblivious to the fact she was being unbelievably rude as her mind instantly boiled with an odd mix of WTF sprinkled liberally with "just how much freaking money does this fairy have?"

Grace was absolutely flabbergasted, and Niall stepped a bit closer, reaching to collect her other hand in his as a compassionate expression crept across his face. "Grace, you never cease to delight me with your simple thoughts! My dearest child, I have means that extend beyond your comprehension, and I would gladly spend any amount to see you safe and smiling again. This house is truly a gift from me to you, a token of my love that I am offering with the sincerest hope that you will find happiness again . . . would you at least look at it? If it is unsuitable, I shall have Nuada assist in locating another."

His beseeching expression held tangible anticipation, and Grace found herself feeling quite torn. She genuinely appreciated the gesture, but she could hardly comprehend that he had done such a thing. Based on Nuada's rather vague words, she had wrongly assumed she was going to see some generic house he already owned – not one he specifically purchased as a gift to her – and she turned to look at Nuada uncertainly.

"Did you know about this?" she asked.

Nuada met her wide-eyed stare gently. "Erulissë, I was the one who picked it out and arranged the relocation of your things," he revealed. "Saes, would you please allow me to show the house to you?"

Grace hesitated, but after taking another careful look around, managed a smile and accepted – pleasing both men intensely – and Nuada simply glowed with pleasure as he took her around the yard, pointing out various things while Niall watched contentedly. When Lord Niall mentioned getting Grace a house, Nuada had volunteered to tackle the task. His assignment was completely unknown to Grace, but he had worked very hard with Niall's Shreveport office liaisons to find a house he thought she would like, and now he was thrilled to finally be showing it to her.

The house itself wasn't huge, but it was neatly done in white vinyl siding and a black roof, matching black shutters, and even a concrete driveway to park her truck on, while the lot was a very nice size, with well tended trees and pretty flowerbeds. It was obviously a very beautiful home, and when they completed their rounds and returned to her truck, Grace was completely overwhelmed. She was still quite angry at everything she'd endured, but it was a magnificent gesture her great-grandfather was making, and she couldn't stop herself from giving him a huge hug. "I don't know what to say," she told him honestly, turning to give Nuada an impromptu hug as well.

Niall simply beamed, thrilled to see her pleased, while a very pleasant smile touched Nuada's face, her guardian basking in Grace's pleasure. "Well come on then!" he told them both, handing Grace a set of keys. "Let us see the rest."

Nuada led the way, watching as Grace unlocked the door and they went inside. She seemed quite nervous and hesitant, but with a generous amount of coaxing from Nuada, soon she was exploring the house freely, and the three of them spent better than an hour just walking around inspecting one little thing after another. There were hardwood floors throughout, three bedrooms, one large bathroom, a decent kitchen with an eating area and a den adorned with a new gas fireplace. The rooms were not overly large, but they were certainly ample, and the entire house carried a very straightforward and understated air to it – something that Grace liked very much. It suited her simple style perfectly.

Lord Niall felt quite content when he bid his great-granddaughter farewell, still enjoying her obvious delight with his gift as he popped himself back to Nárthea, but the moment he was gone, Nuada turned to Grace. He knew she was being asked to accept a lot of changes in a very short period of time, and he wanted to be sure she was all right with everything that was happening to her. "Erulissë, are you positive this is acceptable to you?" he asked seriously.

Grace turned from where she was studying the fireplace. "I don't like the idea of Lord Niall giving me a house, even if he is my great-grandfather, but I will admit . . . I really do like it, Nuada. You did a fantastic job picking it out."

Her eyes told him that she spoke the truth, and he couldn't help but smile, feeling tremendously relieved. "Thank you, Erulissë, and worry not for the house being a gift. Lord Niall spoke the truth. He would do anything for you, as would I . . . Now, we have not been into the garage, but everything from your apartment and storage unit in South Carolina is stored there. I apologize that it has not been arranged in the house for you yet, but as you can see, the house needs to be painted . . . but perhaps now that you have seen it, you would like to pick out the colors? The painters are scheduled to start on Monday, and once they are finished, you will be all set to move in."

Grace looked around, truly pleased with the house. She'd missed the beach cottage since she sold it, and while picking out paint colors didn't appeal to her, it would be wonderful to have a house again instead of an apartment, and a yard that was not filled with beach sand would certainly be a nice change - perhaps she could have the rose garden she had always dreamed of! "I really, really appreciate everything you've done, Nuada," she answered, suddenly becoming serious, "and I'm really sorry you've had to do so much because of me. I know you didn't ask to be stuck with any of this."

Truer words had never been spoken, yet Nuada didn't begrudge her for any of it – Grace certainly did not ask to be placed in this odd situation. "Erulissë, while I appreciate your sincerity, your thanks are not necessary. I hope only that you will find peace and comfort here." His voice was soft and low when he spoke, and his emerald green eyes were locked on her, his head tilted to the side studying her. Suddenly, he reached to run the back of his hand down her cheek in the most gentle and seductive way possible, and Grace blushed furiously. And seconds later, Nuada did too, seeming as surprised he'd touched her like that as she was.

He pulled his hand back immediately, but Grace laughed it off. "Now you are the one full of surprises!" Grace told him, mimicking one of his favorite phrases, and he thankfully laughed along with her, their easy banter returning as they locked the house, and headed back to the luxury community where they were staying.

The silver BMW was conspicuously absent from the parking lot when Grace pulled the Cadillac into a space - something that she noticed immediately – but she did not panic when she thought about the car, and Nuada discreetly said nothing as he politely escorted her back to the elevator and guided her back into the flat. It had been a surprisingly pleasant and productive evening, but her back was killing her after driving, and she went to collect a drink, grunting as she leaned over.

Nuada was there immediately, producing two pain pills from what appeared to be nowhere, then watching dutifully as she swallowed them. She was emotionally drained, and knew they would make her sleepy, so she bid him goodnight, intending to call Sookie before it got too late to see if she'd like to go with her to look at paint chips one day, then crash for the night.

Surprisingly, Nuada stopped her before she left the kitchen, asking if she would object to him leaving for a time.

It earned him a very cool look, and Grace stared at him curiously. "You leave here every day . . . so why are you suddenly asking my permission to leave tonight?" she asked.

"I do not want you to be upset, Erulissë," he answered. "It is indeed night, and this would be the first time you have been left alone in the evening since returning to Shreveport. I do not wish you to be uncomfortable or frightened . . . although if you were to need me, you have only to call for me with your mind, and I shall immediately return."

That transformed the cool look into a cold stare, and Grace glared at him. "I'm not some little kid who's scared of the dark, Nuada, and I thought we were getting beyond the babysitter mentality," she snapped.

Nuada knew instantly he'd pissed her off again, and decided he needed to be quiet while he was ahead. Wisely saying nothing further outside of bidding her a very good rest, he headed to the wet bar for a drink, settling on the couch until he heard Grace through the wall talking to Sookie. He knew Grace would be asleep very soon, so he slipped away to change into his elven clothing.

Grace wanted to see Haldir, which meant he was going to see Haldir – because that was one visit, he never intended to take place.

***************************************

In the Northern Wood, Haldir was seated behind the heavily carved dark wood desk, impatiently doing the paperwork he despised when he heard the door open. It was late and he wanted this finished tonight. Not looking up from his task, he spoke quietly. "Mae?" Hearing no response, he glanced up impatiently, surprised to see Lord Elrond standing there.

Haldir was in a ridiculously bad frame of mind, miserable and tormented by Grace leaving, and he was in no mood for a visitor right now, not any visitor. He had returned to the General's talan overlooking the Great Hall and marchwarden training grounds only to face a small mountain of paperwork, a stack of grievances, overdue duty rosters, and two brothers demanding to know every detail of his life over the past four weeks. He wanted nothing but silence with his thoughts and his work tonight, but now found himself suddenly faced by the Master of Rivendell, and he could easily guess the topic of their conversation – and it was not anything he wished to discuss.

The past few days had been pure hell for Haldir. The return trip to the Northern Wood gave him hours of silence on Seraphim's back to replay Grace's painful cries over and over again in his mind, and he'd found himself haunted by her words, her smile, her touch . . . and their bond. His very blood felt abandoned since she left, and the elf knew he would have to find some way to accept these things if he was to survive.

As he began to come to his feet, Elrond quickly waved a hand to stop him. "Do not rise, mellon nín," he said firmly.

Slowly lowering the quill in his hand, Haldir leaned back in the leather chair and crossed his arms over his chest, his deep blue eyes cold as ice, and Elrond watched him carefully across the desk. Haldir was a very formidable creature, and Elrond knew his pain was fresh and very close to the surface . . . his suffering from the loss of Grace made him very dangerous . . . and while Elrond would never fear the marchwarden, he also knew Haldir was being tested to the very limits of his tolerance, and anyone could be broken.

"How are you faring?" Elrond asked compassionately, no undertone in his voice to tell the marchwarden he did not really feel nearly so sympathetic as he sounded.

With his frown deepening by the moment, Haldir didn't answer. He simply sat in the chair, thinking over Elrond's question, and when his eyes wandered to the now dead red flower laying on the corner of his desk, he found himself thinking that it looked very much like he felt.

Met by only silence, Elrond prodded him to reply, a crease beginning to mar his own brow. "Certainly you are aware of the implications of your own actions, are you not? Grace now wears the marchwarden pendant of protection, bestowed to her by your very hands. You have pledged your very life to her as well as the life of your men, and I must know . . . are you prepared to make good on that promise, Haldir? For I fear you have allowed this strange new bond you share with the girl to cloud your judgment." Elrond eyes were burning with intensity as they demanded the deeply troubled elf to answer him across that carved wood desk, because that impromptu pledge could have effects on the remainder of his eternal life Haldir had never bothered to contemplate.

Finally a pair of eyes as blue as the most cloudless sky came up to meet those of thunderstorm grey, a sad, serious expression creasing the beautiful face of the most beloved marchwarden of the Galadhrim as he answered. "You may doubt my resolve, but I am quite aware of the commitment I have made. Until her last breath is spent, Grace will be protected by my sword, my bow and my blood." Haldir's voice was careful in tone, but there was a viciousness hidden there that spoke volumes.

"Your blood may have saved her life, but I can assure you it does anything but offer her protection – quite to the contrary, it is causing nothing but problems that I can see, and I fear it may destroy you both before this is seen through!" Elrond countered harshly. "Now I mean not to be cruel, but there are things you simply must accept, Haldir. I know not what moved you to perform such an act, but Grace should never have been given that pendant. She is assigned guardianship by Nuada, and that creature does not require the assistance of the sacred marchwarden talisman of the Galadhrim, nor the bow of a marchwarden. You need to accept that she is no longer in this world, and put those memories aside."

"I most certainly will not!" Haldir hissed, his broken heart making him oblivious to the repercussions he might suffer for his boldness. "I placed that pendant around her neck, and that is very well where I intend it to remain . . . You of all know that elves do not break their word, so do not doubt that I will gladly protect her, and provide anything necessary to sustain her life, including more of my blood should she ever need it!"

Elrond stiffened, but refused to allow himself to be drawn into an argument. He sympathized, he understood, and he knew Haldir's actions were being driven by an uncontrollable pain compliments of the blood bond he now suffered the effects of. The elf was trapped in a lose, lose situation, and the healer had little to offer by way of comfort. "None of us have asked to be in the situation that grips us Haldir . . . and no matter the limitless apologies I might offer for asking this of you, I cannot change what has transpired, or erase the bond that now holds you. What is done, is done, and we must simply find some way to help you through this until it ends, and I warn you Haldir, it will end for even I do not have the power to change her fate."

Haldir's expression didn't change. "Agreements can not be made?" he finally asked. Frowning, Elrond clenched his teeth and shook his head – no – watching Haldir's entire body tense as he did. It tore at him, reigniting a fury that was threatening to burn out of control.

Niall had seemed completely unmoved when he commanded Nuada to collect Grace's still sobbing form out of the rose gardens and return her to the human world, and that nonchalance had earned him one of the most vicious beratings from Elrond that ever passed between them. Elrond had stood on his very own terrace, watching that horrid scenario unfold before his very own eyes, feeling the sheer devastation of two innocent souls . . . and it had disgusted him.

The Master of Rivendell had watched a false affection driven by an unyielding bond grow between Grace and Haldir knowing it would end in tragedy, yet because of love for his brother, he had naively stood by and allowed it to happen - to one of his own bloodline, and to one of his own race – and in doing so, he now knew he had endangered them both.

It had been the very last response Elrond expected when he questioned Niall's judgment in involving himself in the lives of two human women, but his brother had quite coldly revealed his plans to bestow Dermot's essence on Grace, rendering Elrond speechless. The elven ruler could not believe his brother would even consider such a thing, positive he stood a much better chance of killing Grace than giving her a longer life, but the bad news did not end there. Not only did Niall intend the same for Sookie if given the opportunity, but he also revealed the true reasons behind his choice of Nuada for her guardian.

Niall was a powerful supernatural entity – a formidable celestial being, and a wielder of unbelievable magical power. He was also in possession of many palantír or seeing stones, powerful orbs which held the ability to forecast the future, and the fairy lord of Nárthea was staunchly convinced that those stones had revealed to him that Grace's destiny lay with Nuada. It was nearly unconscionable, considering Nuada had maintained a solitary existence for nearly five millennia, but the stones were beyond reproach, and Niall intended to give fate every single opportunity to see if the visions revealed to him could be made real, and he'd gladly offered the most unexpected nudge of binding their auras just for good measure.

The fairy was brutally honest in his speech to Elrond, openly admitting that he never expected circumstances to unfold as they had, but he seized the opportunity as it was given to thrust Nuada and Grace together, and while he genuinely appreciated the elf's blood donation, as for what happened to Haldir now that Grace was gone, quite frankly, he could not care less. As a fairy, he held absolutely no regard for the high moral standards elves held themselves to, finding the idea that sharing your body with someone was a bond of marriage laughable to him at best. So far as Niall Brigant was concerned, Grace sleeping with Haldir during her time in Rivendell had been nothing more than a convenient way to pass the time – for both of them – and he intended for it to end right there.

Laurel Grace might have just finished screaming her heart out in sorrow for Haldir, but everyone agreed this burning need between them was the result of that blood bond – and as soon as the essence of her grandfather was transferred to her, that bond would be broken and Grace would most likely forget who Haldir of Lórien even was. Until then, Niall Brigant was determined she would remain in the human world. His great-granddaughter would be watched over by Nuada, she would be subjected to his plans, she would indeed be transformed into a nearly full fey, and at some point during what Niall hoped would be the next seven or eight hundred years of her life, the fairy suspected that she would garner the affections of Amarande Nuada.

It was a stunning list of revelations, and as Elrond listened to the callous words of his brother, he knew the more Haldir and Grace were in contact with one another, the stronger the blood bond between them would become, and that was something Lord Elrond did not intend to happen. Grace's feelings for Haldir might indeed fade as her interests turned elsewhere, but he feared Haldir's would not. Elves were immortal, living forever and carrying their love with them for all eternity, and if Haldir truly fell in love with Grace, he would be tormented by that love until the end of time.

A palpable silence engulfed them as Elrond's mind raced, and as Haldir stared across the desk to one of the eldest and most knowledgeable creatures in his world, he knew something terrible had gone on that he was not aware of – and it most certainly involved him. He gave Elrond a questioning look. "Am I not to be informed of the decisions that have obviously been made for me?"

With his eyes trained on the dead flower, Elrond gently explained of his exchange with Niall, revealing the fairy's plans for Grace's conversion, but very specifically omitting all mention of Nuada. Upon further pressing, Niall had admitted absolutely nothing might ever develop between the guardian and Grace, but even that admission was certainly not enough for Elrond to condone Haldir continuing any type of relationship with the human girl. In theory, when the transfer was complete, Grace would possess a life span long enough to be a true companion to Haldir if she so desired, but in actuality, that conversion might also bring out every other undesirable fey quality in her as well, and she might spend her next several hundred years enjoying every pleasure of the flesh most other fairies did. Love be damned, it simply was not worth the risk, so Elrond forbid Haldir from her on the spot. Grace was safely returned to her own world, and Haldir would be well advised to leave her be.

Haldir's expression did not change as he listened, his face like stone as he absorbed the words. Finally, he spoke, but it was not the reply Elrond hoped to hear. "There is a hidden hope in your words, and let no one think if Grace calls out to me that I will not go to her regardless of the consequences."

"She already calls for you! Even at this very moment her blood longs for you, and I know you feel the same!" Elrond's harsh voice cut through the stillness. "You must find some way to overcome this. Two weeks of pleasure are not worth an eternity of misery, so you must release your soul from her, Haldir! Find another to take her place – if you cannot allow another to possess your heart, then allow them to possess your flesh until the heat subsides for I fear that is the only way you will survive."

Haldir said nothing, his eyes firmly locked on the paperwork on his desk, the words unreadable through the glaze of fury that coated his eyes. Elrond remained silent as well, roughly shoving the chair back and leaving the office with a brush of robes and the soft slam of wood as the door closed behind him. Turning to the window, Haldir stared into the darkness, wondering if the blackness that threatened to swallow him would ever ease. Like Grace, he felt himself burning, longing to return to the feelings of passion and desire that had burned so hot in him only days before. Was it possible to find another who could make him feel that way again?

***************************************

Crossing the training arena, Elrond was furious, enraged at his brother, enraged at Haldir, and most of all, enraged at his inability to control this situation he was faced with. Well intentioned or not, he now knew he should have never brought Grace to the elven world! It was his mistake – a fact that had been quite unceremoniously pointed out to him by Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel, the two extremely powerful rulers of Lothlorien, only hours before. They held Elrond in favor because before sailing to the undying lands, their only daughter had been his wife, but that favor did not erase their displeasure at the state their beloved marchwarden general had been returned to them in. Haldir served under their rule, and his health and happiness was of the utmost concern to them. The situation was not acceptable - none of this was - and it was all his fault.

The deepest frown imaginable creased Elrond's face as he strode into the darkness, hoping the warm night air and gentle sounds would ease his ancient mind. If he could ever make up for the damage his actions were causing to the marchwarden he'd just left up on that talan, he certainly would, and he was debating any possible way to make that happen, when he glanced up and found that he was not alone. The odd blond hair shimmering in the night's darkness was unmistakable, and Elrond knew instantly who was leaning against that mallorn tree.

"Your presence is not welcome here tonight, Nuada! Return to the girl, and do not involve my people farther," Elrond warned angrily, his voice cold as death as he spoke.

"If I fell beneath your rule, I would heed your words," Nuada answered, quite unaffected. "Unfortunately, I do not."

Elrond's silver eyes cut through the darkness as he faced the mercenary, his face as dark as it had been in thousands of years as he spoke. "You are not the only warrior standing on this soil, and I have faced adversaries more powerful than you, so neither you nor my brother should dare me to involve myself in this further, for rest assured I shall."

Nuada considered the powerful Elf Lord in the darkness, knowing his words were true. Lord Elrond was not someone to be dismissed. "I have no quarrel with you, mellon nín," Nuada answered smoothly. "As always, you hold my utmost respect, and my desires are very simple - to keep Erulissë safe and to assist her in adjusting to her new location. She calls for Haldir, so I have come at her request, although I certainly do not wish to see her request honored. Her ties to this place need to be severed, so that she might return to her own life, and find peace with herself."

Elrond considered the threatening creature in front of him, his gaze steady as the ages as he spoke again, leaving no doubt to the sincerity of his words. "Then we have an accord," he declared firmly, "for no one deserves the pain I have seen inflicted these past days. Just as you desire peace for Grace, so I intend to see it restored to Haldir of Lórien. He is not a pawn in the game my brother plays, and it would serve you both well to let him be. I have only moments past forbade him to answer Grace if she calls for him, so you will not torment him further with word of her. That marchwarden needs time to recover and heal, and I intend to see that he receives it!"

Surprised to find Lord Elrond in such ready agreement with him, Nuada gladly conceded. He would not anger the elven ruler further by speaking with Haldir this evening, but if that marchwarden chose to ignore Elrond's orders and came to Grace thereby upsetting her, he could assure them both, they would certainly be speaking in the future.

Nodding politely, Nuada turned to leave, Elrond's parting words carrying on the still night air to echo back off the trees as he began to fade into the shadows. "It would serve you well Nuada, not to allow yourself to be used as a pawn either."

The sentiment of warning was well intentioned but quite pointed, burning into Nuada's brain as he faded away. The guardian was not so naïve that he didn't realize Lord Niall was up to something, and like Haldir and Elrond, he also found himself having a very difficult time accepting the situation he now appeared to be trapped in. Never before had the fairy lord asked anything comparative of this from him, and babysitting a human fell far outside of his repertoire – even if that human came seemingly well graced with a plethora of issues, ranging from horny elves to hungry vampires - but he most certainly did not intend to remain her guardian for the rest of her life. Nuada intended to see the transfer completed, but once that task was complete, he intended to leave . . . and that was the most concerning part of this to him. He was now bound to that human, and while Haldir's bond to Grace would be broken the moment that transfer ritual was complete, theirs would not.

***************************************

"Why not just paint everything orange and black for Halloween and forget about it?" Grace asked sarcastically, so sick of staring at paint chips she thought she'd die.

"Be serious!" Sookie told her in a threatening tone. "If you don't have at least part of these picked out by tonight, Nuada is going to kill you! Aren't the painters starting in the morning?"

"I know, I know!" her cousin answered. She'd procrastinated as long as possible, lingering over lunch at the mall with Sookie, then finally forcing herself to face the enormous racks of paint chips in the home improvement warehouse. "Who comes up with these ridiculous names anyway?"

"Somebody with way too much time on their hands! Here's one . . . Sea of Tranquility, and here's another good one – Thundering Clouds" Waving the paint chip at Grace, Sookie suddenly found one of them snatched from her hand.

"Hey! I actually like this one – Hidden Springs – it reminds me of Haldir's eyes." Grace was smiling when she said it, but the smile faded instantly as her heart reminded her how empty it felt. Fighting back tears, she touched the paint sample with her fingers, wishing it really was Haldir's eyes in front of her instead a damn piece of paper with paint on it.

Frowning, Sookie watched her reaction, knowing they needed to get out of the blues and back to the yellow section fast. "Sweetie, it's alright – don't upset yourself. When are you going to see him again?" Knowing elves could pop themselves wherever, whenever the same way the fairies could. Sookie had already been wondering why Grace hadn't see Haldir yet. Surely he was coming to see her again . . .

"I have no idea. I haven't heard one thing since I got back. I know he's a General, and he's got to have a lot to do, but I thought I'd hear something." Grace frowned terribly as she thought that over. "Nuada was supposed to check and let me know, but he hasn't said a word. I'll have to remind him." Distracted by thoughts of Haldir, Grace found she'd completely lost track of what paint chips she liked and what she didn't and shook her head in disgust. Maybe it would have been better if Nuada picked out the damn paint himself!

Later that night, Grace was still staring at the colorful little squares when Nuada came into the kitchen. She had them spread out all over the counter, and was switching them around repeatedly, working herself into a complete state of irritation by the time he joined her. "Erulissë, leave this. Why not stop this for a time? Return to your puzzle box - help yourself find some peace." His words were kind and his intentions were good, but they didn't impress Grace one bit.

"I'll get to the puzzle soon enough Nuada." She said flatly, her eyes still intent on the paint chips. Seeing the blue flickers in her fingers as she touched the paper squares, Grace knew he was right. She was not doing nearly so well controlling her emotions since returning to her own world, and thinking about Haldir today had completely thrown her off. She'd had one hand on that pendant all afternoon, and she did need to find some way to focus herself before she started bouncing things off the walls again.

Silently Nuada came around beside her and looked at the orderly little rows she had made of the paint chips, one row for each room. She knew what color she wanted in each room, but there were so many different chips with slightly different shades her brain was fried. Den = apricot, Kitchen = yellow, Bedroom 1 = blue, Bedroom 2 = tan, Bedroom 3 = sage

They were all clearly marked in her neat handwriting, and he was impressed at how organized she was. Staring at them intently, Nuada studied them for a few minutes, then took his finger and silently slid one chip out of each row across the granite to make a new little row right in front of Grace. In under a minute, she had a perfect little row of beautiful paint colors all selected and ready for her new house. "See Erulissë? It is not so hard after all. The house will be beautiful." He told her softly.

Staring at the row of paint chips, she found herself really liking the colors Nuada picked, and refused to even consider changing them. Quickly she swept all the others into a pile, and slid off the stool to dump them in the trash. "Done." She said firmly. Nuada smiled at her, as glad as she was that process was over. He turned to leave, but Grace stopped him before he could, gently touching his arm.

"Nuada?" she called out nervously. His face was creased in a frown before he ever looked back at her. He tried not to be invasive by listening to Grace, and he never plundered deeply into her thoughts unless he felt it was something extremely important, but he had been keeping himself slightly open to her since she'd come to stay here with him, needing to keep a check on her emotional status. He knew what she wanted before she opened her mouth.

Watching him as he stepped closer, Grace knew Nuada heard her question without her saying a word. She studied him for a moment, despising the blue flickers that insisted on running under her skin every time she got close to him, hating the fact that this man knew so much about her. Seeing the sad expression on his face and in his eyes, she held her hand up for him not to say a word. It was obviously bad news, and she didn't want to hear it.

Giving her a sympathetic look, he frowned, feeling he owed her some type of explanation. She didn't allow him the chance, silently turning away and heading to her bedroom. It still didn't have a door, but she slipped to the spot on the other side of the bed to stare out of the window again, wishing the darkness in her heart didn't match the darkness outside of it.

***************************************

"Excuse me?" Sookie's voice cut through the office like a knife, her hands on her hips and her saucy attitude on full display for all to see. "What did you just say to me?"

Roxy just stared at the two lowly humans with a pure look of disdain, her waist length dark hair hanging in waves down her back as she stood staring at them down her perfect porcelain skinned nose, with chocolate eyes flat as stone. "He is not receiving visitors right now." She said firmly, unmoved by the blonde human's demands.

"What's wrong Sook?" Grace asked, returning from the bathroom. She'd gone to get a wet paper towel to wipe some paint off her hand. Seeing her cousins face, she knew instantly Sookie was pissed off about something. She'd actually known in the bathroom, the connection between them stronger than ever since they were together now.

"She won't let us see Nuada – he isn't receiving visitors right now." Sookie told Grace sarcastically, and Grace turned and looked at her with the one of the most vicious glares Roxy thought she'd ever seen. Roxy was Nuada's secretary and assistant. She'd been working with him for over two hundred years, and there was absolutely no way two young human woman covered in paint were going in his office!

"Please tell him I'm here." Grace said politely, her eyes turning a shade darker as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"He's busy, and I'm not interrupting him for anyone." Roxy said flatly, not caring how hard the human glared at her.

Suddenly, a very distinguished looking man Grace knew immediately to be an elf emerged from an office nearby. He was dressed in a suit that could only be described as exquisite, and although his hair was cut to shoulder length and covered his ears, it was a darker shade of silver similar to Haldir's. He smiled softly at the two girls, and they smiled back politely. No sooner had he spoken to the girls, than Roxy instantly disappeared.

"I am Cairbre." he introduced himself. "I am a friend of your great-grandfather, Lord Niall. You must be Sookie and Grace! I have heard so much about the two of you. So pleased to meet you! I tend to matters that involve elf and fairy interests here in the earth realm. Please come, sit and we shall speak until Nuada frees himself." He smiled politely and led the two girls to his office, completely oblivious to the paint covering them as he motioned them to the huge leather chairs in front of him gleaming mahogany desk. "Please rest assured that my office stands ready to assist either of you in any way possible should you ever require it."

Grace and Sookie exchanged knowing glances. Seemed having Lord Niall for a great-grandfather came with a few perks – groveling elves being one of them. Grace smiled at Cairbre politely. "Well thank you, but I can't imagine I'm gonna need anything right off, but I do appreciate your offering."

"And you Sookie? How are things with you?" He was intently looking over both of them, silently comparing the two girls, surprised how different they were.

Sookie simply smiled at the man. "I don't need a thing." She answered politely, silently adding to herself that if she did, she sure as hell wouldn't be going to him for it – she'd go to Eric.

He looked at them kindly. "Grace . . . are you feeling better now? Please tell me, how are things with the new house? Am I to assume the painting began on schedule?"

Grace absently pulled the pendant from her shirt and began twirling it in her fingers as she answered. "It's coming along. We've been helping, but I guess that's obvious!"

Hearing his sharp intake of breath, both girls froze and looked over the desk at him. His eyes were glued on the pendant in Grace's hand, and it took him a moment to compose himself. "I see you know Haldir of Lorien." He said carefully, looking at her curiously, waiting for an answer.

Grace watched him cautiously, instantly on the defensive. "He is a . . . friend." She answered flatly.

Cairbre's eyebrows were raised, and he inclined his head to her as he answered. "So I see. Well, trust that you will be extended every courtesy by this office. Please do not hesitate to contact me should you ever need anything." He stood abruptly as he finished, and extended a business card to each of them. Grace took it from him, noticing that he was careful not to touch her when he gave it to her. Frowning, she and Sookie looked at each other, wondering what the hell they just missed, then went back to the main reception area.

It was some of the most expensive looking office space either of them had ever seen. _Obviously, these elves and fairies have been doing some investing in all that time they've been coming to the earth realm!_ Grace thought to herself, taking in the mahogany furniture and fancy leather seating. Neither of them would dare sit on anything else, not wanting to spread the paint from them to anything else.

Roxy had not returned, and the longer Grace stood there the more pissed off she got. After fifteen minutes passed, Sookie was furious too, and Grace had little blue flickers beginning to flash here and there under her skin. "Forget this!" Grace finally snarled, taking Sookie's arm and dragging her toward the door. "If he wants to know about the damn paint, he can go look at it himself!"

They headed down the elevator and climbed back in Grace's truck. She had to get Sookie back home in time for her to get cleaned up and get to work at Merlotte's that night. Driving away, her mind was completely focused on Nuada and how pissed off she was at the treatment they'd just gotten at his office, and it was enough to make his brain burn.

Behind those huge wood doors at the end of the hall, Nuada suddenly became very aware of the link between his aura and Grace. Staring at the contracts in front of him, he found himself unable to focus, suffering from an instant headache as scorching heat and a feeling of pure disgust slowly rolled over him. "Damn!" he said roughly, a hand finding it's way to his temple. He turned to Roxy with a frown. "Is there someone here to see me?"

Roxy knew not to lie, but she couldn't imagine Nuada consorting with the likes of the two strange lowly humans outside that door. "No." She answered flatly, and Nuada gave her a cutting look. .

To get such a strong read from Grace, she had to be close. Roxy was protective over him to a fault, particularly where woman were concerned so he simply got up and opened the doors to look for himself. There was nothing but an empty reception area staring back at him. He frowned deeply, then returned to the desk and the pile of paperwork on it, dismissing Roxy. Once she was gone and the doors closed behind her, he slid a paper out from under the pile and stared at it intently. He'd been staring at it all morning, and he couldn't help the lift at the corners of his mouth as he did. It was a picture he'd printed from the internet of Smurfette, and he'd colored the blue cartoon character's hair black with a magic marker . . . it reminded him of Grace, and for some reason looking at it made his headache feel better.

Thankfully, Grace didn't look like Smurfette when she pulled her truck into the gravel parking space in front of the old white farmhouse on Hummingbird Lane. Those blue flickers that insisted on appearing under her skin were driving her insane, and she was determined to make them stop no matter what. She shoved Nuada from her mind, and focused on spending time with Sookie and seeing her home for the first time.

"I love your house," Grace told her sincerely, appreciating the age and grandeur of the huge old white farmhouse in the quiet wooded setting. It seemed very peaceful here, and Grace could imagine that Sookie enjoyed it very much.

Sookie smiled at her cousin. "I actually had a fire not that long ago, this whole part is new. I had to get a new kitchen, but I was able to close in the back porch and get new appliances! It's been in my family for nearly 100 years."

Grace was surprised by that and couldn't help thinking that it must be nice to have a real family history. "Wow, that's really nice. Do any of them live here with you?"

Sookie frowned. She hadn't told Grace much about her human family, figuring she had enough to worry about already. "I've got a younger brother Jason. He's married to a werepanther but we don't talk much anymore. My Gran lived here with me until two years ago, but she's dead now. She was murdered . . . " Sookie's voice trailed off in pain, the memories of what happened to her grandmother on the floor in that very kitchen more than she could take at times.

Grace was horrified at her answer, and wished she hadn't asked. "I'm really sorry Sook." She told her cousin with a gentle look, and a deep frown.

It was genuine, and Sookie thought back to what her great-grandfather told her about Grace, glancing over the scars that were clearly visible on every part of her. "We've both been through a lot huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Grace agreed, then quickly changed the subject. Surely they could find something happier to talk about! They fell easily into a deep conversation about new clothes and fingernail polish while Sookie took a bath and got ready for work. While she was getting dressed, she invited Grace to grab a shower and come along. Grace hesitated, not usually one to spend time with girl friends so intimately, but finally relented to taking a shower then slipping into a borrowed simple cotton dress of Sookie's. It felt nice to spend time with someone human and normal for a change, and Grace found herself at peace for the first time in a very long time.

They talked of nothing particular, then Grace gave Sookie a ride to Merlotte's. Eric was coming to see her after work, so he could simply pick her up and give her a ride home. Grace decided to hang out for a while, taking a seat at the bar and letting Sookie introduce herself to the regulars. They seemed nice enough, and it was several hours before she got up to leave. Sookie was busy bustling from table to table, and Grace was glad to see her smiling and happy. Hopefully, one day she would feel that way again herself.


	14. Trust No One

Chapter 14 – Trust No One

 

It had been nearly six weeks since Grace was attacked in the parking lot of Fangtasia. She'd spent three of them in Rivendell, three of them in Shreveport and all of them in hell. Her neck had healed, leaving a terrible scar but that certainly didn't matter considering how many other scars she had. Her back was the problem, and it was a problem that only seemed to be getting worse. Since getting thrown off that cliff, it tormented her day and night, and she was in a constant bad mood.

The constant bad mood could certainly be attributed to other things as well because Grace had plenty to choose from. She'd still not accepted the idea of living in Louisiana in lieu of South Carolina, and was trying desperately to make herself want to be involved with the new house. Grace never ate, and sleeping was becoming a real problem too. She had the same nightmare over and over again, always the same, and always so real she felt like she could reach out and touch it.

She was beginning to think she was going absolutely crazy, and after yet another night of strange dreams and waking up feeling exhausted, she'd gone to the new house that morning to check on the painters. Maybe it would help get her mind onto something else. It had been exactly a week since she and Sookie had spent the day painting trim, and the painting crew was supposed to be finished with the walls today. If things went well, she'd be living there within a week or two.

Pulling the Escalade onto the concrete drive, she could tell instantly by the distressed expressions on the painters faces standing outside something was wrong, and when she went inside and found a very animated man waving his arms and reeling off profanities at the construction supervisor, she knew it must be something bad. Standing there with her arms crossed, she looked around and instantly saw the problem, and holy hell was it a problem.

The painting crew had painted latex paint over oil paint, and every last bit of it was peeling off the walls – each and every wall in the entire house, including the ceiling. Grace thought she'd throw up when she saw long strips of her beautiful paint colors hanging from the walls. Turning to her with a horrified expression, the supervisor began to profusely apologize. He'd been trying to call Nuada, but had been unable to reach him. Since Grace was there, he decided to talk to her instead. He talked, and Grace listened, feeling her heart freeze at his words. Every wall would have to be stripped, sanded, and they would have to start over. They were already double booked, and this was going to take time. It would most likely be after Christmas when they were done.

Grace never said a word back to the man, her shocked expression and vicious glare telling him he should be glad she didn't. Heading out of the house she fought back tears, and was instantly furious when she felt the touch on her arm. Flipping around she found herself more shocked than ever to see Lord Elrond standing there. He was out of his robes, the stunning dark colored suit far beyond exquisite, and he looked remarkable. Frozen, she could only stare for a moment as he smiled at her gently.

"How are you child?" he asked quietly. "Come let us speak for a moment."

Grace was in a state of shock about the painting, and it took her a moment to collect herself. After staring at him strangely for a minute, she allowed him to take her arm and lead her away from the house toward the back portion of the lot where it was quiet and secluded. Her mind was racing a thousand miles a minute, wondering why on earth he had come to see her, and if he would tell her anything about Haldir.

"Lord Elrond, it's nice to see you but why are you here?" she asked him curiously, wondering if something was wrong.

"I am concerned for you Grace, that is all." He answered carefully. "How are you feeling?"

Grace knew instantly he wanted to more than how she was feeling, and frowned at the powerful elf. He'd been very kind to her in Rivendell, and she didn't doubt he might be concerned about her health, but there were other ways to find out than a personal visit. "Why are you really here?" she asked firmly, locking her grey eyes on his blue ones, hoping he wouldn't lie to her.

He looked strained, tired as he met her gaze. For a human, Grace was very perceptive. "How are you adjusting to being back in your world?" he asked her seriously, his deep voice full of concern as he spoke.

Grace stared at him oddly. She wasn't adjusting worth a shit, but she didn't have to tell him that. "I manage." She told him flatly. "How is Haldir?"

That brought the deepest frown Grace had ever seen on any face, and it hurt her. Obviously not well. Her eyes glinted with tears as she waited for an answer, her mind desperate to know how the magnificent elf was doing, her heart racing as her hand clutched the pendant around her neck. "He has returned to his post." Elrond answered simply, his voice guarded

Grace stood there and stared at him in disbelief. Was no one going to ever tell her how Haldir was doing or when she might get to see him again? Suddenly she was furious. "Is no one capable of telling me how he is doing or what the hell is going on?' She blurted out angrily. "Or is my life just none of my own damn business?"

Elrond stopped walking and came to stand in front of Grace with the saddest expression on his face as he looked down at her. She was fuming, her eyes blazing as she looked up at him. "My dearest child, I am so sorry for the things you have been through." He told her softly. "And I fear my words will bring you nothing but further anguish, but I must tell you the same things I have told Haldir." Grace looked at him nervously, her heart in her throat threatening to make her stop breathing, knowing whatever he was fixing to say was going to be something terrible.

"Please place your time in Rivendell in the past Grace. Your attention needs to be on the things you are currently faced with." His voice was strange, almost desperate as he spoke to her and Grace felt her insides go numb. He was telling her to forget about Haldir, to pretend he never even existed! And he was trying to tell her something else too . . .

"Tell me what is wrong, please." Grace begged the elf, her grey eyes imploring him to answer her, desperate to know what his words meant.

Elrond only frowned, his expression so sad, his eyes full of torment as he looked down at her. Quickly he reached to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Remain strong child. Remember who you are, and trust no one. Things are not always what they appear to be." He pressed a piece of paper into her hand and stepped away from her and with no more than a thought was gone just as quickly as he appeared. Standing in the back yard of her house, Grace was stunned. She had no idea what his words meant, or how to find out either. Glancing down at the paper, she saw nothing more than his name and a phone number. Why on earth would she ever need to call the Elf Lord of Rivendell?

Heading to her truck, she fought desperately to stay in control, and decided more than anything else she wanted right then, she wanted to see Nuada. It was a weak moment, but just once she actually wanted him to pat her on the head and tell her all of this was going to be all right. The visit from Elrond scared her, convincing her something was terribly wrong, almost as if she were in some kind of danger. On top of her nightmares and the painting issues, she was completely overwhelmed and she had the worst headache of her life. Fighting back tears, she drove straight to the office building around the corner from the flat, and slowly made her way to the fifth floor. Coming off the elevator, she once again found the secretary unfortunately absent and after standing there for what seemed like forever, was nearly run over by Roxy coming down the hall.

"You again?" she snarled. "He's still busy, and he's always going too be busy for you, little human woman."

Grace stared at her, emotionally shaken and startled by her rudeness this second time. Suddenly the realization of something washed over her, like a tidal wave threatening to drown her, and she found herself incapable of saying anything back to the rude woman. She looked at her oddly for a moment, then just turned around and walked away.

Heading back to her truck, Grace sat there for the longest time, just staring into space. She was nothing but an intrusion in Nuada's life, and she wasn't even that unless he was in the flat. He was always preaching to her about how he was there for her, yet she didn't even have his telephone number. Sitting there, Grace was positive once that house was finished, he was going to haul ass and leave her high and dry in this damn place to fend for herself. She was completely alone and scared to death - Haldir was completely out of her reach and Nuada obviously didn't care what happened to her. If it wasn't for Sookie, she wouldn't have one soul.

In tears, she cranked up her truck. She didn't head back to the luxury flat, she headed for Bon Temps, knowing seeing Sookie would make her feel at least a little better. Driving down the interstate, Grace considered her cousin. Meeting Sookie had turned out to be the only bright spot in this entire mess she now called her life. And while meeting Eric had been a terrifying experience, he hadn't turned out to be quite so bad as she'd imagined. He might be a vampire, but he seemed nice enough and he obviously loved Sookie very much. His apology for her attack had seemed genuine, and Grace wondered how it was possible for someone who was supposed to be dead to be nice.  
She's been surprised how nice Sookie turned out to be too. They'd been spending more and more time together, and they called each other more than their fair share too. Grace was shocked how close they instantly seemed, and the more they talked the closer they became. One of the most striking things about the pair was their instant mental bond. From the first moment they met, there was an instant mental connection. They could literally finish each other's sentences, and they didn't need a telephone to tell the other one what they were thinking or how they felt – the other one simply knew.  
And that's why Grace knew Sookie wasn't at home, she was at Merlotte's without even calling, and that's why Sookie wasn't surprised when Grace walked in and took a seat at the bar. This was her second trip to the popular Bar and Grill, and she'd already met most of the people Sookie worked with. Overall the people at Merlotte's were nice. It was a typical small town watering hole, with all the gossip and drama that came along with it.  
Grace liked the shifter who owned the place called Sam instantly, and fell in love with Sookie's high school friend Tara and her burning sarcasm. Meeting her fellow waitress Arlene had turned out to be a real challenge, but Grace was up to it. The waitress had gotten herself involved with The Fellowship of the Sun, a vampire hating church. She'd turned against Sookie as her friend, and Grace hated her instantly when Sookie told her about it, hoping no trouble would come Sookie's way from that before it was over.   
Sitting at the bar as lunch hour wound down, Grace was stewing over her problems and minding her own business as she finished up a chicken sandwich and fries when Arlene took the opportunity to introduce herself a little further. Sookie had already introduced Grace as her cousin, and Arlene wasn't going to miss the opportunity to let family know what she thought of Sookie and her involvement with the vampires. Sidling up to her at the bar, Arlene looked at Grace expectantly, her eyes shining as her flaming red hair glistened in the light. "You know, you might 'aught to talk to that cousin of yours about the company she keeps. Those vampires are no good. They've already ruined her! Now that you're here, why don't you see if you can talk some sense in her? She used to be such a sweet thing . . ." Her shrill southern drawl drifted away at the end for dramatic effect, and Grace wanted to slap her.  
Sam and Tara were listening to the exchange, and wondered what Grace might say back to her. Sookie was no pushover, but that didn't mean it ran in the family. They were fixing to find out that it did. Grace was already pissed to no end, her mood deteriorating on the way to Bon Temps dramatically, and listening to some slut with a bad dye job bad mouth her cousin wasn't really working for her right then.   
Turning completely around on her barstool, Grace faced the waitress, making sure she could clearly see the vampire attack scars on the side of her neck. "Well, let's see - Arlene isn't it? Arlene, you know it's so nice of you to be concerned about Sookie. I worry about her myself!" Grace was setting her up, and Arlene was nodding as she spoke, positive after seeing that nearly healed hole in her neck, Grace was going to say something awful about the walking dead. "You know, I'd never willingly let a vampire touch me - I like mine warm blooded myself, if you know what I mean." she continued, Arlene hanging on every word as Grace leaned in close to her and lowered her voice.  
"Personally, I only fuck elves. They're hot, and those little pointed ears just turn me on!" she drawled the last part, sucking in a deep breath and shuttering as she did, and Sam nearly lost it. Arlene turned red as a beet, throwing her towel on the counter and stomping off to the bathroom while Tara burst out laughing, clamping her hand over her mouth to try and stifle it, but failing miserably. Sam was laughing his ass off, trying desperately to keep some sense of composure about him, but he couldn't, turning to Grace and giving her a grateful look. As the owner, he tried to steer clear of the women and their personal issues at work, but he was thrilled someone had Sookie's back besides him now.  
Grace didn't say another word, just smiled softly and returned to her food, glad to give Arlene something new to obsess over. A little later, Sookie slid onto the stool next to her, knowing Grace was not having a very good day. "Wanna tell me about it?" she asked with a comforting smile.  
"Paints ruined." Grace told her with a grimace. "They used the wrong kind and the whole house is ruined. They've got to start over, and said it would be Christmas before I got in there." She frowned desperately with those words, and Sookie frowned too. She knew Grace did not want to live with Nuada that long!   
"What are you going to do?" she asked with big eyes full of concern.   
"I have no idea." Grace told her sincerely. "I haven't even told Nuada yet. I went by the office, and that bitch Roxy nearly walked over me in the hall, then she told me she was never going to let me talk to him at the office – ever." Grace stared at the floor when she finished talking, and Sookie looked at her oddly. Surely Grace wasn't going to take that kind of treatment laying down!  
"Why didn't you tell her to go screw herself?" Sookie demanded, and Grace had to smile. That would be her normal response after all!   
"I don't know – I don't even have Nuada's phone number, and that's the second time I've been to that office and nearly got shoved out the door. If that's what a guardian does, he sucks at it." Grace was nearly in tears now, and Sookie was getting madder by the minute. If that was how Nuada intended to treat Grace, then he did suck as a guardian!   
Seeing the tears in her cousin's eyes, Sookie knew that wasn't all that was bothering Grace. "He ever tell you anything about Haldir?" her voice was soft, knowing that was a very difficult subject. Grace only teared up worse and shook her head no.   
"Nuada never answered me, but Sookie . . . Lord Elrond came to see me this morning. He didn't say what he wanted, just gave me his phone number on a piece of paper and warned me to be careful, to trust no one. What do you think he meant?" Her eyes were full of tears, her face in a deep frown. Grace was obviously scared.   
Sookie believed her cousin's words, but oddly, there was no trace of anything about Elrond in Grace's mind as she sat listening to her. Sookie frowned for a moment, but then dismissed it as nothing. She gave her cousin a quick hug. "Listen, I got to get up from here. You keep your chin up. Tomorrow night, we'll go out. Just me and you – promise. Now you go do something for yourself. Go get your nails done and try to relax. I'm sure Nuada can work out something about that paint, so don't you worry about anything. You're safe with him - everything will be fine."   
Grace finally managed to smile back at her cousin, glad for the pep talk. Sookie could usually find the silver lining in any cloud! "Thanks Sook." She told her quietly. "Call me in the morning." A few minutes later, she finished eating and told her cousin goodbye, waving politely to everyone before she left. As she went for the door, Grace made a point to call out to Arlene. "You ever decide to walk on the wild side, you be sure to let me know. I'll help you out with that!" She winked at her and Arlene turned red again. Grace was glad somebody else got to be pissed off today besides her, but she was still extremely upset by that morning's events. Hopefully Nuada could explain all of this tonight.   


***************************************

"Until you fix the roof pitch, never." Grace's nasty voice blurted out.

Those were the strangest words Eric Northman had ever heard, yet they were intensely interesting to him just the same. It was nearly ten o'clock at night, and he was standing in the office of the flat with Nuada. The pair was looking over a set of house plans he'd just paid an exorbitant sum of money for, yet less than an hour earlier he'd been told by the construction firm he hired there were some devastating flaws. He was facing serious delays, and he was beside himself!

Eric was building this house for Sookie. This was his dream – to build an elaborate house for them to live in together. He'd been furious tonight when he found out about the problems, and he immediately called Nuada, ranting on the phone, raging on and on in some foreign language even Nuada had never heard before. He'd told his friend to come right over. They'd figure something out together.

Nuada was a proficient businessman, running several companies for Lord Niall, but construction was not his specialty. He handled acquisitions of existing properties all the time, but building from scratch? Never. Listening carefully to the list of problems Eric just repeated, Nuada agreed they sounded very intimidating. Obviously, Eric could only meet with these people during very limited hours, and it was hard to do everything at night so Nuada was hoping to help work some of them out in his friend's place.

Grace was sitting on the floor in the corner of that same office, trying desperately to concentrate on the egg shaped puzzle box. Since returning from Rivendell she hadn't gotten a single piece placed, and it didn't look like she'd get one in tonight either. She was complete emotional wreckage as she sat there. While her visit to Bon Temps earlier had offered short term relief, Grace found her mind racing with concerns over Lord Elrond's visit, and the idea that she should forget Haldir was making her nauseous. She'd spent the last few hours reconsidering the treatment she'd gotten from that bitch Roxy, she was furious about the catastrophe at her house with the paint, her head felt like it was going to explode and her back felt like someone had hit it with a sledgehammer. She'd obsessed about not being unable to talk to Nuada at his office, and about the fact that she didn't even have his telephone number until she was ready to choke him with her bare hands.

Now the object of her irritation was standing a few yards away from her with Eric. She'd tried to ignore the pair, but Nuada stopped her when she began to get up and leave the room, assuring her she wouldn't bother them. He was right - but they were sure as hell bothering her! Sitting on the floor, twirling the tiny golden piece with her mind, Grace was now listening to two ancient supernatural creatures who knew less than nothing about building a house drone on and on and she felt like she would lose her mind.

The longer their conversation continued, the shorter Grace's temper got, and finally she couldn't stay quiet any longer. "Tell them to fix the god damned roof pitch Eric! Then shut up and build the fucking thing!" she nearly screamed, and the two men froze at her words.

Eric's blue eyes locked on the human girl playing with the puzzle pieces on the corner after she spoke. Easing closer, he stared at Grace intently. "What did you just say?"

"I said to fix the fucking roof pitch on that house you won't shut up about so you can build the damn thing!" she grated out at him, her grey eyes blazing with disgust as she stared back at him. "Stupid idiots!" she muttered under her breath.

"Stupid?" Eric repeated, shocked she called him that. 'Who the hell are you calling stupid?"

Slamming the little gold piece down, Grace climbed off the floor and went to stand right in front of Eric, her hands on her hips as she stared up at the huge Viking warrior. "I'm calling you stupid because obviously you hired an idiot to draw those house plans!" Suddenly something in Nuada's mind clicked. Remembering the mathematical calculations and strange drawings flying through her mind that morning in Rivendell, he realized this was what Grace had done for a living!

"How the hell would you know?" Eric ground out, his irritation at the whole night's events boiling over and manifesting itself against the little woman in his face. He was ready to strangle somebody, and she was looking like a likely candidate!

"Oh gee – I don't know Eric!" Grace told him sarcastically. "How about a damn college degree in architecture, and over ten years actually doing what the dumb ass you hired obviously can't?" Grace was furious as she stared up at the arrogant vampire. It irked her to no end to see house plans butchered by people who charged ridiculous fees and didn't do their job worth a crap. And she was furious anyway!

"You can't possibly be that old!" Eric fumed at her with narrowed eyes, raking them over her as she glared back at him. He'd never asked Sookie how old Grace was, but she didn't look a day over eighteen.

"Thirty-Five smartass! Not that it is any of your damn business!" Grace growled back at him, his shocked look not lost on her. "And I'll be sure to tell the next person who cards me you agree!"

Hearing her words, Nuada turned and looked over Grace carefully himself. No, she certainly did not look that old in human years, and his face furrowed as he considered that. They would have to be more careful!

"Age is of no importance!" Nuada's irritated voice told them, as his eyes met Grace's. "Can you fix this mess?"

Grace looked at Nuada like she wanted to strangle him for even suggesting such a thing, and he just glared right back at her, like she better agree and be thrilled about it. Shifting her eyes to Eric, she raked a cold glare from one end of him to the other and back again. "You building that house for Sookie?"

Eric frowned desperately at the question. His personal life was none of her business! "I will not answer that question for you!" he told her firmly, crossing his arms across his chest and lifting his chin arrogantly to stare down his nose at her.

"Your loss . . . " Grace said softly, and turned to leave the room. Eric had her by the arm before she took two steps. He'd reconsider answering that question!

"Grace, listen to me please." He began speaking softly, trying to reason with her. "I care for Sookie more than you could ever imagine, and I desperately want to build this house so we can share our lives together in it . . . will you please help me fix these plans?" Grace looked at the vampire with a flat unmoved stare, then thought of her cousin and the way she looked at Eric . . .

Frowning, she went over to the drafting table. Eric was thrilled to see her take interest, and leaned over so close to her his hair was nearly touching her face. She turned her head to cut her eyes at him. "See here . . . I'm almost starting to like you, but that doesn't mean you can invade my personal space, so back off with your dead self!"

Eric could hardly suppress a smile at her words. Grace was the most adorably offensive person he'd ever met, her strange southern slang expressions the oddest things he thought he'd ever heard. He'd liked her instantly, knowing that hard exterior hid a little softie inside. Smiling slightly, he backed away from her and let her look over the plans.

She flipped the enormous pieces of paper to and fro until she found the keys she was looking for, then asked him for the subdivision guidelines and covenants, and a whole list of other papers he obviously did not have. Grace's frown only deepened, and Eric could tell she was very disappointed. "Can you get these things you need?" he asked her, his concern genuine.

"Do I look like your fucking secretary?" Grace answered, her hands on her hips as she gave him a disbelieving look.

Nuada chuckled softly at the two of them, their continuous sniping at each other was a source of endless amusement to him. "What if I have my secretary get these things for you Erulissë? Would that be acceptable?" Grace turned and looked at him like she was going to slap him down, and Nuada didn't know what to think. "Erulissë? Is that a problem?"

"Everything seems to be a problem for that damn bitch you call a secretary!" Grace smarted back at him, and Nuada's face instantly creased into an intense frown. He knew Grace was in that office to see him today!

Eric interrupted immediately, not wanting the two to start throwing things at each other again. He slid himself between them. "I'll hire you your very own secretary Grace, just tell me if you can fix this for me please!"

Grace gave Nuada another hateful glare, and returned to the plans. "You got a scale?" she snapped, and Nuada looked at her like she'd asked him for the hope diamond. "An architectural ruler? Three sided, shaped like a triangle?" He was giving her that stupid stare, and Grace looked back at him like he was the lowest life form on the planet.

"Ya'll are pitiful!" She growled out, heading to the desk and jerking out drawers to search through them. Nuada had no idea what was in that desk, but when she let out the little happy "ah!" that told them she had one, he was very relieved.

Returning to the plans, she placed it here and there, all the while pouring over the various notations, letting out little disgusted sighs, and irked hmms along the way. It was nearly driving Eric into a frenzy, and when he leaned too close to her again, he got that same look that told him to back off. He obediently retreated until she finished. "You want the long version or the short one?" she asked the now pacing vampire.

The two men answered her simultaneously. Nuada wanted the long, Eric the short. Turning to Nuada, Grace peeled off a list of things wrong with those house plans that was as long as his arm and he nearly fainted, his hand instantly finding it's way back to his temple as he felt the headache he'd had all day suddenly intensifying. Across the room, Eric's frown got deeper and deeper as he listened, not knowing what one word of that meant, but positive it was really bad. "Short version?" he asked politely.

"You're fucked, but I can make you enjoy it." Grace told him, and he started laughing softly to himself.

"Grace, you are the strangest little person I do believe I've ever met!" the vampire told her sincerely. "What do you want to fix these house plans for me?" he asked her, two sets of eyes suddenly locked on her. "Money? I will gladly pay you . . . what else? What do you want Grace?"

Grace felt like the last cookie at a kindergarten Christmas party, and she didn't like it one bit. She frowned at his question, knowing no one had the power to give her what she wanted at that moment. The change in her face was dramatic and instant as she considered his words, the intense sadness that crossed her face obvious to both men, but she recovered quickly. "I don't want your money Eric, and there's nothing you can give me either. I think fixing your house plans is a small thing compared to saving my life, so we'll just not worry about it, alright?"

Eric looked genuinely surprised at her words, and so did Nuada. It never occurred to either of them that Grace would thank him for the night she considered one of the worst experiences of her life. "You're very welcome Grace. Let's hope we never have to do it again." Eric told her quietly, while Nuada silently agreed.

"Just leave the plans. I'll fix them for you." Grace told him firmly. "I'm gonna need some things, but who knows? Maybe Nuada can make that bitch heel and get them for me." Eric looked to Nuada expectantly, and he frowned violently. Roxy most certainly would get Grace everything she needed, and that wasn't all she was going to get!

"All will be taken care of Erulissë." He told her firmly, and after one more venomous glare in his direction, Grace turned and left.

Leaving the two men in the office, Grace was still a mental wreck, but found herself glad she could do something nice for her cousin and the vampire who saved her as she walked down the hall. Heading for the kitchen, she grabbed a drink, and settled at the island to read over the latest Jackson and Perkins rose catalog hoping it would ease her mind some. It was a little past midnight when Eric got ready to leave and came into the kitchen to tell her thank you again and good night. She was intently reading about the latest spring rose releases when Eric unexpectedly put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick hug to tell her just how happy he was.

Grace frowned, and passed him a scathing look. "See here dead body, if you're gonna touch me like that, you go warm yourself by a fire first!" Her words were harsh, but her tone was not, actually she was trying not to laugh as she insulted him and Eric loved it. There was not another being on earth he would have allowed to talk to him that way, but for some odd reason he had a soft spot for this little damaged human.

Nuada walked him to the door, seeing him off then returned to the kitchen with Grace. "That was very kind what you did tonight." He told her sincerely.

"Which part?" she asked coolly, not even looking up as she flipped the page.

Frowning, Nuada looked at Grace over the bar. Obviously, she had not had a very good day and something had happened with her and Roxy at his office to say the very least. "Both parts." Nuada answered evenly. "Your sincere thank you, and your offer of assistance."

"Glad you approve." Grace told him coldly, not giving one crap what Nuada thought about either one.

Her obvious irritation concerned Nuada, and he came around the bar to stand directly beside her. Taking the magazine from her hands, he closed it and laid it to the side. "Please tell me what is wrong Erulissë that you are so angry this night . . . what happened today?"

Grace gave him a strange look. She'd found herself becoming quite attached to the handsome elf since she started staying there, but she had no intentions of admitting she'd wanted his comfort earlier that day. Trying to ignore him, she slid off the bar stool in the direction away from him, but barely got off the stool before her back caught her and she had to grab the edge of the counter for a minute to collect herself. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and willed the pain to go away.

Nuada was beside her in an instant. "Erulissë! Why have you not told me your back is bothering you this way?" he demanded, his voice a mixture of anger and concern.

Fighting back tears, Grace snapped right back at him. "If I had a fucking way to get in touch with you during the day, maybe I would have!" Her eyes were on fire she was so mad when she looked up at him, and Nuada stood there trying to absorb her words.

"Erulissë, you have only to . . ." he began to speak, but found himself instantly cut off by Grace's sharp voice as she climbed right in his face.

"I have only to what? Call you? Call you how? I don't have your damn phone number!" her voice was rippling with anger as she spoke. "Or what . . . I can go by your office? I've already been to your office twice and your pet bitch nearly shoved me out the door both times. She told me she'd never interrupt you to talk to me – ever!" Grace was screaming by the time she got the last part out, and Nuada was mortified. He might not be excited about the two of them being stuck together, but he certainly wasn't going to tolerate anyone who worked under him being rude to her either!

His voice was cold as stone when spoke again. "When did you come to my office Erulissë?"

"I came by last week with Sookie after we got through painting trim, when she insulted both of us, and then I came by today to tell you about how the painters messed up the house . . . " Her voice faded off at the end, as she choked on tears at the thought of her new house now ruined. Jerking away from him, she refused to say anything else and headed to the wet bar in the den. If she'd ever deserved a drink, it was right then.

Nuada let her go, silently slipping down the hall to the office and closing the door behind him. He had his cell phone in his hand before it closed, and he had Roxy on the other end in under a minute.

Grace was unceremoniously throwing ice in the wet bar sink and slamming down a crystal tumbler when Nuada came back into the den. Of all the alcohol in that house, they didn't have a single drop of Smirnoff, and she didn't want anything else. Completely disgusted, she was turning to head for her bedroom when she found two hands stopping her.   
Grace wasn't the only one who'd been getting attached these past few weeks. Nuada wouldn't want to admit it either, but he'd found himself unbelievable attached to the young woman he was guarding. He had grown to accept her complete disregard for proper clothing, dressing in shorts and tank tops to a fault, and he overlooked the fact that she could curse like a sailor. She was adorable, always in her bare feet, never shy about anything, always direct and unabashed with her comments and it made him smile. But he also saw the other side of Grace, and it was that part he so fiercely wanted to protect. The fragile part that cried sometimes when she thought he didn't know, the part that collected those tiny music boxes and lined them up in neat rows in the bedroom he'd seen at her apartment, and the part that had needed him today when she came to his office.

"Erulissë, come with me. We need to talk." He told her firmly, taking her by the arm and leading her to the rug in front of the fireplace. "Sit down." Grace gingerly eased down on the rug, while he left the room, returning a moment later with pain medication and a glass of water.

He handed them to her, and Grace gave him a burning glare. "This would be so much easier if you just gave me the damn bottle you know."

Frowning, he watched her swallow them, then put the glass away before sinking to sit beside her. "Then I would not know when you hurt Erulissë. You refuse to tell me how you are feeling most of the time." The comment was pointed, referring to a lot more than her back and Grace knew it.

Grace gave him a very irritated look, obviously uncomfortable as she sat there cross legged on the floor. "Lay down." He commanded, and Grace looked at him in disbelief. "Please." He added harshly, and Grace could tell he would make her if she didn't.

With a fair amount of difficulty and a slight groan, she managed to lay down on her stomach stretched out on the rug in front of the fireplace. When she felt his hands touch her back, she stiffened like a board. He was still dressed in his office clothes, but his shoes were off and he'd untucked his shirt. That was a little too comfortable for Grace at that very moment, and when he started pulling her shirt off, she nearly had a fit. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, instantly coming off the floor.

"I have seen your scars." He told her flatly. "And now I am going to look at your back to see if you are bruised somewhere. Obviously you were injured in the fall." Grace fumed, but finally did allow him to pull the shirt over her head. Him seeing her in a bra wasn't that much different than being seen in her bikini, she reasoned with herself.

 _And it is a very attractive bra,_ Nuada thought to himself, noting that the lacy apricot creation went very nicely with her tan. As he reached to put his hands on her body, his eyes got a full view of her back and her scars and it shocked him to his very core. He had seen her scars in Rivendell, but she'd been in the bathtub and mostly submerged in the water. He'd also been furious at her, and he hadn't been paying her body nearly the attention he was paying her attitude and her mind at the time.

This was completely different, and as he reached to touch her, he was not prepared for seeing them again. He was very careful to remain composed, but it devastated him to see her body in such a state, and he thought back to her terror at seeing the silver BMW. She had truly suffered, and he found himself hating what she had been through, and determined she would never experience such pain again.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly ran his hands over her back. Grace instantly felt like she was on fire from his touch, but it only lasted until he found the sore area on the lower left side and she nearly screamed. "There is a terrible bruise here Erulissë." he told her. "It has not healed." Ever so gently he began to rub the place, his hands working at the knotted muscles, willing them to release the pain they held locked inside. It felt both good and bad, bringing relief but hurting like hell at the same time, and Grace grunted more than a few times in discomfort before he was finished.

Easing to lay beside her, he rested his head in one hand and stared at her. "Talk to me Erulissë." He told her softly.  
Still laying on her stomach, she looked over at him. Grace was still mad at him, but he was so absolutely gorgeous, it was hard to stay that way. "I tried to talk to you earlier today," she told him with a soft sigh, "but I couldn't."  
"Already taken care of." He told her firmly. "And you shall have my telephone number and you may use it as much as you like." Deep inside, Nuada cringed when he said those words. He hadn't given his cell phone number to a woman in his entire life, and he could not believe he was doing it now!

Grace looked at him with narrowed eyes, studying the powerful creature in front of her. "Let me guess, you already have mine." Nuada didn't answer, that glint in his eyes telling her the answer. "And let me guess you already know every single thing else about me too." Grace added with a hefty dose of sarcasm. "Right down to my social security number and shoe size."

His expression changed with her words, his eyes particularly as he studied her. "I know many things about you Erulissë, but that does not mean that I know you." Surprised by his answer, Grace turned her head slightly to look at him more closely, her curiosity obvious in her eyes. It had not occurred to her that he wanted to know her.   
"Please tell me what happened to upset you today." he asked again. Grace frowned, but finally relented. She told him about the problems with the paint at the house, obviously upset at the delay, but carefully omitted her impromptu visit from Lord Elrond. Nuada was not pleased with her news, and promised to make some calls in the morning. That made Grace feel slightly better, and then their conversation shifted to Eric and the house plans.

Promising to make a list of the things she needed in the morning, Grace told him she could get started just as soon as she had everything. Thinking about that, she suddenly had a terrible thought, and her eyes flew to Nuada's. "How am I ever gonna hide that from Sookie?" she asked desperately. "She can read my mind! She's gonna know!"  
Nuada gave out a little grunt of irritation, knowing Grace was right. "I can take care of that Erulissë." He finally told her softly, and with a fair amount of trepidation. Grey eyes locked on emerald green as Grace silently demanded he tell her just how he planned to do that, and he seemed more than reluctant to share. Finally he relented, but he was obviously not happy about it. "I will hide that part of your mind from her."

Grace couldn't hide her shock, a huge frown instantly taking over her face. "You can do that?" she snapped.   
Nuada suddenly became very interested in the pattern on the rug as he avoided meeting her gaze, and Grace heaved herself up into a sitting position, suddenly not caring that she didn't have a shirt on. "Hello! You planning on answering me?" she demanded in a nasty tone.

Raising his eyes to meet her, Nuada had his mouth locked in a thin line as he ran his eyes over her, knowing this was going to piss her off to no end. "I can block parts of your mind from Sookie. It is not a problem."   
"My mind's just a freaking amusement park to you isn't it?" Grace ground out, wondering why he even bothered to ask her questions. If he wanted answers from her, why not just plunder around until he found them? She knew he already listened to practically every thought she had because he answered half her questions before she even asked them.   
"God damn I'm sick of this shit!" she growled to herself, climbing to her feet and snatching her shirt off the floor.

She grabbed a drink from the refrigerator and replaced her shirt before climbing back on the kitchen stool and grabbing the rose catalog again. Angrily snatching the pages around, she silently fumed to herself as Nuada came slowly in the kitchen and slid onto a stool across from her. She ignored him, her eyes refusing to meet his as she kept them glued on the pages, suddenly stopping on a page with a huge picture of a coral colored rose, very much like the one he handed her in Rivendell. He'd handed her the rose and told her to trust him. She didn't know why it struck her so odd, but then she thought about Lord Elrond's words earlier that day – she should trust no one.


	15. Tease

Chapter 15 – Tease

"Telling you that half the shit you got for me is wrong isn't being a bitch, it's being honest . . . telling you that skirt is too damn short and makes your ass look like the broad side of a barn, isn't being honest, it's stating a fact . . . and me telling you that if you call me a bitch one more time it's gonna take Nuada six months to identify the pieces of your body is both!"

Grace's voice was pouring venom as she glared at Roxy over Nuada's desk, the trapped man in the high back black leather office chair desperately wishing he wasn't there as Grace bounced the staple remover she just melted with the blue flames flickering over her fingers across his desk.

Glaring at Nuada across the extremely expensive carved mahogany desk, Grace wasn't finished. "I've got better things to do with my time than come in here for the third time and listen to her smart off at me. If she does it one more time, I swear I'm gonna kill her!" Grace paused long enough to glare at Roxy over his shoulder then continued. "Screw this! I'll work over at that apartment!" Grace was already out the office doors and halfway down the hall with her truck keys in her hand before Nuada caught her. He managed to grab her arm but Grace snatched away from, instantly up in his face, the burning blue flames deep in her eyes telling Nuada she wasn't kidding.

"Erulissë, stop this fighting please!" He was trying to reason with her softly, but Grace was having none of it.

"I have listened to quite enough already today, thank you very much." She told him viciously, her eyes still on fire. "And I'm not listening to anything else!" She'd come to the office that morning just as she promised Nuada she would, politely looking over the things she had requested Nuada provide for her so she could work on Eric's house plans. Her list had been very specific, even a complete idiot could have gotten the things from the office supply store, but did Roxy get the right things? No. And she was very happy about that too. She'd found a hundred reasons to dig through the file cabinet in the corner of Nuada's desk that morning, gloating over Grace's irritation and sliding in choice little comments every chance she got. After she murmured bitch under her breath the second time, Grace had tolerated enough and told her so.

Behind her in the office, Roxy was rolling her eyes thrilled to see the damn human leaving, but it was short lived joy, because Nuada just brought her right back. "Get out!" he nearly screamed at Roxy as he dragged Grace back into the office. "You – Sit!" he told Grace firmly, his voice and expression both telling her he wasn't kidding.

No sooner did her ass hit the chair, than the double wood doors slammed closed. She was now closed inside the office and Nuada was outside of it. Grace couldn't hear exactly what got said in the hall, but it was loud and it certainly didn't sound good from where she was sitting either. It was a good thirty minutes before Nuada came back in, and by that time Grace had already docked her laptop and downloaded Eric's house plan files from Herveaux Construction. Her laptop was already set up to handle working on them, the latest version of the necessary CAD software updated and ready to go. She used a docking station when she worked from home, and took the laptop with her when she went to jobsites or met with clients. It worked in South Carolina, and it would work just as well in Louisiana.

Ignoring Nuada when he returned, she was already beginning to pour over the blueprints, having made a number of mental notes as to what the problems were the first time she saw them. This was what Grace loved to do, and she was very good at it. It only took her a few minutes to be completely in her zone over in the corner of the huge office, and within minutes her fingers were flying over the keys as she made various notations, sent an email requesting more documents to her contact at the construction company, and requested a meeting with Alcide Herveaux to go see the lot.

Sliding behind his desk, Nuada was surprised. He expected a huge fight when he walked back in, and was very relieved when he didn't get it. Turning back to his own work, he found it impossible to concentrate and while he moved around the various stacks of papers on his desk at least a hundred times, he didn't actually do anything outside of sit there and intently watch Grace for the rest of the day. This was something very different for Nuada. He never had anyone in the office with him, even Roxy being an unwelcome intrusion most of the time, and seeing Grace working away on the house plans amazed him. It took a special kind of person to be able to look at all those lines and make some sense of it, and she was doing just that.

It was well after dark by the time Nuada cleared his throat for the third time, wondering if he would ever get Grace's attention without having to go over there and physically tear her away from the computer. She had stacks of papers she'd printed out, lists of notes for several different people, sticky notes stuck all over the wall in front of her, and she was intently running figures on the calculator as he watched. Outside of the telephone conversation she'd had with Sookie earlier that afternoon, Grace hadn't said one word since that morning, totally focused on what she was doing.

Nuada was just fixing to speak to her, when she spoke first. "You got Eric's phone number?" she asked, her voice all business and no pleasure as she posed her question. Nuada looked at her oddly, never having see Grace so focused on anything, even the golden puzzle box.

When he didn't answer, she turned to look at him with a strange expression, wondering if he didn't intend to give it to her. "You can call him yourself if you'd rather . . . I just have a couple of questions." She was frowning, wondering what the damn secret with the men around this place and their phone numbers was. Behind his desk, Nuada was looking at her like she had something stuck in her teeth, and she finally just shook her head in disgust and turned back to the computer. She'd just call Sookie back and get it herself!

Thankfully, that wasn't going to be necessary because about that time, Eric himself came walking in. He was desperate to know if Grace got the things she needed that day, and was pleased beyond belief when he walked into Nuada's office and saw her actually working on them. "I'm impressed!" he said cheerfully, as Grace glanced over her shoulder at him.

"You won't be when I get through asking you these questions." She countered, and he immediately frowned, worried that something else terrible was wrong. Laughing softly, she shook her head at him. This was so typical for people building a new house! Industry people called it the emotional rollercoaster, and there were even graphs charting the emotional stress people suffered during the process. Obviously, Eric was going to be at the far end of that spectrum, because even though he was dead, he was a complete nervous wreck!

"Lighten up Eric!" She told him with a grin. 'It's not like it's gonna kill you!" He laughed at her drawled insult, and came to stand beside her, being very careful not to invade her personal space as she so clearly defined it to him last night. Grace actually had to make him come closer so he could see the computer screen as she pointed out various things. That monitor was what started the fight between her and Roxy that morning. The secretary intentionally bought the wrong size and the wrong resolution just to piss Grace off, never knowing just how good of a job it would do. Grace was trying to work with it, but she had a screaming headache after staring at it all day, and fully intended to go buy the one she'd originally asked for first thing in the morning.

Eric politely answered her questions while Nuada listened, and Grace made a number of very well informed observations too. Listening to her, Eric suddenly realized the house needed a woman's touch since it was after all being built for one, and asked Grace her opinion about it. She frowned desperately at his question. She'd offered to fix the plans, not personalize them. Taking in the imploring stare and the intensity of his soft blue eyes, Grace finally relented and gave him two simple suggestions that would make the house a little more Sookie friendly: the laundry room needed to be downstairs, and the back deck needed to be covered or converted to a porch so she could have her porch swing. She hoped they would shut him up, but unfortunately they did the opposite.

Eric seized on those two ideas, positive she had more and Grace soon herself cornered by one very anxious vampire intent on turning this into the perfect house. Behind him, Nuada could only laugh softly to himself. He had come to admire the vampire for his steady business mind and warrior past. Seeing him acting this way over Sookie was entertaining at best.

"Back off Dracula!" Grace told him firmly. "You look at me like I'm a steak one more time and you'll get nothing!" Eric laughed softly and backed away, but he was still intent on Grace getting more involved with the house. Finally, she relented, promising to feel out Sookie's ideas on a number of things and let him know how it went.

Satisfied she'd done enough for one day, Grace struggled to get up out of the chair, finally finding herself being helped to her feet by Eric as Nuada watched with the deepest frown imaginable. Obviously Grace's back was not any better, and he knew he needed to find some way to help her. He planned to discuss it with her that night, but after returning to the flat, he found himself quite upset when several hours passed and Grace did not come home. It never occurred to him that she might be going somewhere else after she left the office, and he was pacing the den when she finally walked in. Hearing the door close, he was immediately relieved, and completely infuriated.

"Where have you been?" he demanded before she even got the door closed, and Grace looked at him like he was crazy, then that look slowly turned into a big fat smile.

"Don't tell me you waited up and worried about me . . ." she taunted him sarcastically, but Nuada didn't return the smile, only glared at her across the room.

"You did not answer my question!" he growled out, and Grace outright laughed at him.

"What's your problem?" Grace asked with a smile, wondering what had his panties in a wad. "I went to the new house and dug through the garage until I found my own docking station. Where'd you think I went?" She was standing in the foyer with her hands on her hips, amazed at the hateful attitude she was getting from Nuada. First she couldn't even get in touch with the man, and now he was having a fit because she left for a few hours!

"I did not know where you were Erulissë," he told her haughtily, "and I do not like that!"

"Well aren't you touchy tonight?" She answered, her voice rising with sarcasm, still amazed at the glare she was getting from him. "You've got my phone number. Did you need something from me that I'm not aware of?"

His expression was still angry, but it did soften as he came across the room to stand beside her. It was late, well past midnight, but he did want something with her. "As a matter of fact I do." He told her, forcing himself to calm down. "Please come with me."

Grace put her purse down, and obediently followed Nuada back to the elevator. She couldn't imagine where they were going this time of night, and she was shocked when he stopped the elevator on the third floor. Politely leading her off the elevator, Grace found the entire floor of the building holding the most amazing collection of open space and elaborate gym equipment she'd ever seen. It would have put most advanced college workout rooms to shame. Unknown to Grace, this was where Nuada went 80% of the time when she thought he was out. He was here practicing his various blade handling skills. Looking around the place, Grace found herself once again blown away by the money Lord Niall obviously had, and how he chose to spend it.

"You are going to start coming here with me, and we are going to work the soreness out of your back." Nuada told her firmly, the intensity of his glowing green eyes telling her that was not up for discussion either. He sat in that office all day and watched her pop Tylenol and Motrin like M&M's, and he did not intend for that to continue.

She watched Nuada uncertainly, wondering just what he intended to make her do. When he explained how he intended to stretch her over that giant red ball he retrieved from a nearby rack, Grace was less than impressed – she was actually terrified as hell and wondered if she said no, just how he intended to make her! Her back was even less impressed when five minutes later he did just that, putting one arm at the small of her back and unceremoniously bending her over it like a damn ball room dancer before transferring her violently resisting body from his arm onto that big ass ball and reclining her over it like she was on medieval stretching rack.

Grace might not have been impressed, but Nuada was impressed as hell. Grace was concentrating on how bad it hurt to get her back pulled on like that, but Nuada was concentrating on how her shirt was halfway up her midriff and he got to see how low her shorts were sitting across her hipbones and that her navel was pierced.

He didn't catch that in Rivendell because she didn't have her belly ring in, but she'd put it in as soon as she got back, and he was shocked when he saw that little dolphin dangling there! Incapable of even thinking for a moment, he simply froze and as Grace became aware of his eyes locked on her navel, she couldn't help but laugh. For once her perfectly mannered unflappable elf was completely speechless. Still giggling at his reaction, she pulled her shirt down and climbed off the ball. He'd shown her what he wanted, now she was going to bed!

Unfortunately for Nuada, Grace's torment of him would only continue and increase over the next days and weeks, and he found that he'd bit off as much as he could chew in becoming her guardian. The first sign of trouble was that very night when he spent the remainder of it staring intently at the ceiling of his bedroom thinking about the way the light reflected off that tiny little gold dolphin resting right between those hipbones and her nice flat tanned stomach. It was a very pleasant thought, but he was going to have lots more to think about besides that before this was through!

Nuada's next moment of revelation came some two days later. It was Thursday afternoon when Alcide Herveaux came to his office and picked up Grace. They were going to tour Eric's lot. Alcide actually ran a surveying office with his father that stretched over two states, but there had been such a demand for construction they'd taken up that as well. While his dad concentrated on the surveying, Alcide was now running the construction company. It was around six in the evening when he arrived, and both Grace and Nuada were surprised at the sight of him.

Alcide was tall, taller than either Eric or Nuada, with dark curly hair and brilliant green eyes and he was a man's man. Looking at him, there was absolutely no doubt what he did for a living because he reeked masculinity from every pore. He'd helped Sookie out a few years back, and he was familiar with her unique talents as well as her frequent issues with the supes in the area. He liked her, and when Eric approached him about building the house, he agreed. Alcide was a natural born werewolf, and he was the pack leader of the local group. He took no shit off anybody, and he took his business seriously.

Arriving at exactly six o'clock, he was all business when he met Grace, surprised by this little human woman who was helping Eric, and a whole lot more surprised when he learned she was Sookie's cousin. There was no family resemblance at all, and he immediately wondered if she could do the same things Sookie could. It was gonna be a while, but he'd find out soon enough.

He and Grace went over the plans in great detail, Alcide very pleased with the progress Grace was making on them, and then they left to go see the lot. Nuada was surprised at the pang of irritation that came over him when Alcide carefully led Grace from the office, but when he saw that man's hand at the small of Grace's back, it turned into pure outright anger. He said nothing, his narrowed green eyed gaze following them every inch of the way until they disappeared into the elevator.

It was almost three hours later before they reappeared, Alcide still walking close to Grace as they reemerged from the elevator and Nuada instantly returned to being as pissed off as he'd ever been. Eric had arrived by that time, and they sat down as a group to discuss the details of the plans, the changes that still had to be made, and when construction would begin. They were going to have to go before the review board and get a variance on the house, and that was a concern, but Alcide was positive with Grace's help they would get approval. The committee was meeting on Tuesday morning, and if Grace could be ready, they'd present their case then.

Watching the two of them interact, Nuada felt himself getting hotter and hotter, and madder and madder. Grace was flirting with Alcide shamelessly, batting her big grey eyes at him and he was eating up every bit of it. Eric was watching in complete amazement, shocked that Grace was acting that way and particularly that she was acting that way in front of them with his construction supervisor. She never backed off one bit, even walking Alcide to the elevator, still beaming up at him and smiling as softly and sweetly as she did. Once it closed, she turned around with a smug look and calmly stalked back into the office.

Two sets of eyes were locked on Grace when she walked back in, but Eric spoke first. "You take a liking to werewolves Grace?" he asked with a great degree of curiosity.

"Nope!" Grace answered firmly, giving him a sly smile and sliding back into her chair.

That answer didn't seem to suit Nuada, and Eric could tell he was close to exploding as he sat there staring at her. He looked at his friend carefully, watching him slide back into the warmth of the black leather office chair. That was his third trip to the wet bar just since he'd gotten there, and he was watching his interaction with Grace with more than mild curiosity. This was a whole new side of Nuada he hadn't seen before . . . seemed living with Grace was beginning to make his friend a little warm under the collar!

"Then why were you acting that way?" Nuada ground out, the irritation blatantly obvious in his voice as he slammed a glass of Crown Royal down on the edge of his desk hard enough for the sound to echo through the entire office.

Grace turned around to face the two men with more than a little surprise on her face. "Ya'll are clueless!" she told them with a soft chuckle. "Hasn't anyone ever told ya'll you get more flies with sugar instead of salt? I flirt – I get what I want." She told them firmly. "He's a man - it's not like he thinks with his head anyway! Ya'll are ridiculous!"

Both men gave her a stunned look, then Eric broke out in a huge smile. Nothing Grace said surprised him, but flirting to accomplish her goals certainly got it He laughed at her creativity, then turned back to Nuada as they continued their previous conversation. That little human woman was very full of surprises!

Nuada was relieved, but still highly unhappy about the way Grace and Alcide were interacting. Knowing this project was just starting, he intended to make it a point to watch watch them more carefully from now on! When that Saturday night rolled around, Nuada was watching something else entirely, and he could not believe his eyes.

Grace still had a lot to do on those plans to get ready for Tuesday morning, so she'd had Nuada set up her computer docking station in the office of the apartment. She could work on the plans from there, instead of going to the office building over the weekend. That suited Nuada, and he didn't miss an opportunity to drag her down to the gym and torture her on that ball every couple of hours when she'd take a break from staring incessantly at the computer screen. As it grew later in the evening, he informed her he was going out that night and would not be coming back until very, very late – possibly not until the morning. Would she be alright by herself? Grace had replied with her classic bite me glare, and Nuada had laughed at her before he left.

He did leave a short time later, going to Fangtasia to hang out, have a drink and perhaps find himself some company to take his mind off Grace. After a few drinks and some less than captivating company, the two men found themselves sharing a booth and naturally their conversation drifted to the house. Sookie was working, so Eric wouldn't be seeing her that night and he was desperate for something to do. Tourist season was winding down with the approach of cooler weather, and with the stress of the house, Eric wanted to go do anything to get his mind off things for a while. Nuada suggested Eric join him at the private gym for a sparring session and Eric jumped at the chance. It had been many years since Eric put his hands on a good sword or a finely crafted blade and it sounded like a lot of fun to the former Viking.

The two headed back to the luxury community, and before hitting the gym, Nuada decided to check on Grace, but he never expected this! That gentle squeeze on his shoulder from Eric didn't help any – the man to man communication obvious in it's meaning. When Nuada told Grace he was going out for the night and wouldn't be home until late, obviously she believed him because she most certainly was not expecting company.

When they arrived, the first thing that struck Nuada was the blaring music. Grace never listened to music around him other than in her truck. She'd never even turned on the stereo system in the flat, but she had Kid Rock turned up loud enough to vibrate the windows. The pair could hear it on the bottom floor when they climbed out of the Corvette, and Nuada was thankful that him and Grace were the only ones living in the building. Searching for the source of the music, they soon found Grace making herself quite comfortable in his office. She'd been taking a shower when she thought of another little tweak she needed to make to those damn plans! Climbing out of the water, she'd gone straight to fix it while it was fresh on her mind.

Her towel was thrown over the chair behind her, and she was intently looking at something on the computer screen, her barely clad body leaned suggestively over the desk as she placed her face close to the screen. The lingering dampness still clung to her skin, making her bronze flesh glisten in the soft lamplight. Her hair hung in damp raven waves around her head, and she wasn't dressed yet – not entirely anyway. While she might not spend much time with men, Grace was obviously well prepared because what she was wearing left no doubt she was a regular shopper at Victoria Secret.

With the music so loud, Grace had absolutely no way to know she wasn't alone. Her back was to the door, and she was slowly rubbing Tangerine scented lotion all over herself. Eric recognized the sultry scent instantly when he got close. It was his favorite, and Sookie made sure she never ran out, using it just for his benefit. The two girls had been shopping several times together, and closing his eyes to draw in the delicious scent, Eric knew Sookie had obviously shared her secret with Grace.

Eric had found himself stuck in the hall. Nuada was blocking the doorway, not moving, just standing there staring into the room like he was in some state of shock. Eric didn't know what his friend was looking at, but judging from the glaze coming over Nuada's green eyes, he was guessing his friend liked that tangerine lotion smell too. Actually, Nuada's mind wasn't focusing on his nose, it was focusing on his eyes, and he damn sure liked what they were seeing.

Staring in fascination, Nuada watched a stunningly beautiful woman dressed in the most intricate slate grey lace creations lean over a desk. His eyes burned as he watching her two small tanned hands full of lotion slowly run from underneath that amazing confection of lace she was calling a bra, right down her sides over the narrow strings crossing her hips and down farther onto her thighs.

Nuada couldn't rip his eyes off Grace as she stood in that office, and as Eric peeked around the door, he immediately found himself wondering two completely different things. He wanted to know if the mall was already closed, because he needed to go to Victoria Secret and get Sookie that exact same outfit and he wondered how the hell Grace ever survived the car wreck that left her covered in such ridiculous scars on her back.

Those scars were the absolute last thing on Nuada's mind as he watched Grace intently, seeing her click a few things with the mouse and run her fingers over the calculator for a moment, then stop to study the screen again. When she paused and her hands found their way back to the lotion bottle, he felt a very distinct tightening in his groin. She had to stop doing that, or his heart was going to stop instead!

"Grace!" he nearly screamed, hoping he didn't scare her to death.

His voice didn't scare Grace one bit! She'd been in the liquor cabinet, and found that Smirnoff he'd been so kind to buy for her. She was on her third vodka double, and she had nerves of steel at this point! Grace turned around just as casually as if she was covered in winter layers. Leaning back against the desk, she ran her eyes over Nuada like he was a rump roast, and he blushed furiously when she did. Glancing to the side, she slid the volume button down on the stereo without moving an inch, casually picking up her glass to take a sip.

"Thought you were gone for the night." She said quietly, her voice soft and suggestive, the slate grey lingerie a dead match for the huge grey eyes now devouring every inch of Nuada as he stood there. "Hello Eric." She added softly, her eyes never leaving that delicious morsel across from her.

"Hello Grace." Eric answered with a smug smile. "You're looking quite nice this evening." There was a distinct touch of humor in his voice, and Grace knew the vampire liked what he saw in that room. She knew he wasn't the only one either.

"Glad I could help." She drawled out, just as the stereo shifted from American Badass to Feel Like Making Love, and Eric couldn't help his soft laughter. Nuada had his eyes locked on Grace like he was fixing to come across that room and eat her alive, and Grace wouldn't have minded one bit if he did.

"Put some clothes on." He finally managed to whisper, his voice obviously strained as he worked to get the words out. It had taken a few weeks, but Nuada was already noticing that Grace looked good in clothes, but seeing her without them was torture of an entirely different sort.

Grace leaned there for another minute her eyes firmly locked on Nuada's, then slowly eased away from the desk and glanced around. One of his black silk shirts was draped over the arm of the brown leather loveseat beside the desk where he'd left it late last night, so Grace picked it up. Slipping it around herself, she brought the sleeve to her face and smiled softly. It smelled like him.

"Better?" she drawled out seductively, her eyes burning with pure unmistakable lust as she looked to him for approval.

Nuada didn't say a word – couldn't say a word – he was completely speechless. Seeing her in practically nothing was bad, but seeing her standing there in next to nothing while obviously enjoying the very smell of him off his shirt was far, far worse.

Eric was outright laughing at this point, wondering why these two didn't just give in to the remarkable sexual tension between them. Tapping Nuada on the shoulder, he prompted his friend to focus. "You ready? She's obviously doing fine – very fine as a matter of fact." Nuada just stood there, unable to tear his eyes off Grace, amazed at seeing her this way and more amazed at the way he felt looking back at her.

Seeing him stunned that way was fantastic, and Grace slowly sauntered across the room toward him. She stopped when she was only inches away from Nuada, close enough for the delicate floral scent of her body wafting up to him now. The glass of vodka was in one hand, but she took the other one and ran it down the top of chest where his shirt was unbuttoned as her smoky eyes drifted up to meet his. "I'll be in bed when you get back." She told him softly, then turned and slowly walked away.

Nuada watched her go, his emerald green eyes locked on her, the heat of desire burning him as it poured through his body. He was left standing there wondering how she just made him feel that way without actually doing one thing.

"You could stay." Eric told him quietly, knowing he sure as hell would. Not only that, he was going to see Sookie as soon as they finished in that gym!

Taking a deep breath, Nuada shook his head softly as if trying to clear his head. "No. Let's go." Eric cut him a hard look and raised his eyebrows as if to ask Nuada if he was positive, and Nuada laughed softly at his friend. "I told you I wasn't going there."

Eric gave him a look of pure disbelief, his eyes taking in Nuada's obviously altered state, the flushed cheeks and deep breaths an obvious sign he'd like nothing more than to go there. "Believe that if you want to my friend." He chuckled out softly, and turned back for the door.

Knowing better than to return to that flat, Nuada did stay away that night, spending it in his Los Angeles home instead. It didn't matter, there was no sleeping and he spent it staring at the ceiling anyway. It just happened to be a different ceiling than the one he'd be staring at if he was in Shreveport. As he struggled to get comfortable yet again tossing back the comforter and hurling a pillow across the room in complete disgust, he wondered how in hell he'd ever let himself get interested in a damn human woman! Hell, he couldn't believe he'd let himself get interested in any woman! Staring up into the darkness, he decided he had to do something to change this situation he was in. No matter what it took, he had to get his mind off of Grace.

Nuada kept his resolve, right up until Tuesday afternoon rolled around. He was on the phone, deeply involved in a very serious discussion with a business associate in Los Angeles about a multi-million dollar property acquisition when Grace walked in and he completely stopped talking. He stopped listening, and he almost stopped breathing. They'd stayed carefully away from each other the past few days, the tension between them still blatantly obvious every time they got close to each other.

Her laptop docking station was not the only thing Grace got out of her garage that night she went to her new house. She'd also thought to grab some of her nicer clothes, and this architectural review board meeting was very important. She dressed for the occasion. Muttering a strange excuse, Nuada hung up the phone, incapable of processing the sight that met him when he looked down the hall.

Grace had been in her room when he came up from the gym last night, so he had not seen her. Nuada knew she'd left the office early yesterday afternoon to meet Sookie, but he didn't know where they went or why. Looking at her now, he could guess. Grace had obviously had her hair done, the shortly cropped hair immaculate in the most current style, the new highlights dramatic, her bangs carefully slicked over to the side and clipped there with that tantalizing little rhinestone chip. Her nails were perfect, the French manicure classic and elegant on each of her tanned fingers. And her clothes . . . Nuada could not believe what he was seeing.

If Roxy's skirt had been too short last week, Grace's was certainly borderline, hitting her above the knee at that perfect spot between classic and take my breath away. Her legs were deeply tanned just like the rest of her so stockings were not necessary, and those stylish three inch dove grey pumps with the tiny bow on the side she was wearing were pure perfection. The updated business suit was finely cut and obviously expensive with modern details. It was Parisian grey, a dead on match for her eyes, and she had them made up until they glowed. The skirt was tight enough to get your attention while remaining tasteful, and paired with the portrait collar blazer with it's elbow length sleeves, low neckline and embroidered details she looked magnificent.

Cairbre had been sitting at the front desk when Grace walked in, and he hadn't recovered yet. The woman who walked out of that elevator didn't compare to the paint covered girl who'd walked out of it only two weeks prior! He was stunned, completely speechless, incapable of even telling her how nice she looked as she walked by. That wasn't all he was either, and it was going to be a good twenty minutes before his body's attention subsided enough for him to get up from behind that desk!

Nuada was speechless too, and his glittering emerald eyes never left her as he slowly replaced the telephone receiver and watched her carefully collect the paperwork she needed to present to the committee. They were meeting at 4:00pm and Alcide was picking her up there. Intent on the task before her, Grace didn't pay Nuada's stunned gaze one bit of attention, speaking politely then packing her laptop and paperwork in her briefcase as she prepared to leave. Only moments passed before Alcide arrived, and when Grace left that office with his hand once again firmly planted at the small of her back, Nuada thought he would absolutely go insane.

The lingering smell of her perfume was still tormenting him when the knock came at the heavy wooden doors two hours later, and he was in no mood for visitors. When the door opened, his mood deteriorated even further, seeing Lord Niall, and knowing why he was there. As the door closed, Nuada felt his heart growing cold in his chest. Niall was there to discuss Grace, and it was not going to be pleasant.

"I have not seen you in days." Niall began carefully, slowly lowering his elegant body into the plush leather seat in front of the rich wood desk.

Nuada said nothing, considering the powerful Fairy Lord sitting across from him. This was not a fight he wanted, and it was not one he intended to have that day. "You are pushing her too hard." He finally answered, his voice even but with the obvious touch of barely restrained anger. "You will kill her if you continue!"

Lord Niall was unmoved. "Need I remind you that you are obligated to do my bidding? Or do I need to get a new guardian for Grace? One that will do what I ask of them?" His voice was soft and melodic, but his words were cruel and Nuada cringed beneath them.

The last days with Grace had already strained Nuada to the breaking point and now this! "I will not bring her to you again!" Nuada told Niall firmly, his voice raised now, his anger no longer hidden. "Not for a time anyway. Erulissë cannot take any more right now! Her back is nearly broken, she has not recovered from the wounds she suffered in Rivendell and she remembers!"

"She knows nothing!" Lord Niall ground out furiously. "You give her too much credit! The human mind is weak. Do not tell me you cannot hide a simple thought from her and lock it in her dreams!"

Nuada slammed his fist down on the desk, nearly coming out of his chair as he raised his voice even louder. "Those dreams haunt her! And I will not take her back!" His emerald eyes were on fire as he stared at Niall, daring him to try and force him to do anything else to Grace right then.

Watching him carefully across the desk, a slight smile began to spread over Niall's face, lifting the corners of his mouth and adding a twinkle to the sea green eyes. "You care." He said simply, his lifted eyebrows saying far more than his words.

"I care only for her safety!" Nuada answered viciously, his voice low, almost a growl as he answered. He was in no mood, and this was more than he needed right then.

"You lie Nuada." Niall told him quietly. "But it is a good lie. I do believe you care for her safety, but that is certainly not all you care for." His eyes continued to twinkle with pure enjoyment as he considered the man across the desk, Nuada's obvious anger speaking volumes about his feelings for Grace.

Nuada was just about to reply to that comment when the door opened, Grace and Alcide walking in. It hadn't occurred to Grace that Nuada would be meeting with anyone, and she was instantly surprised to see her great-grandfather sitting there. The glowing cornsilk hair was unmistakable, and she smiled as he instantly came to his feet. The distraction gave Nuada a chance to collect himself, and he came around the desk to greet Alcide properly, shaking his hand and introducing him to Niall. Alcide had not met Niall before, but knew instantly he was no mortal. He looked over him carefully, but said nothing. His cell phone had been ringing incessantly since they'd come out of the meeting, and while he refused to answer it until Grace was returned to her office, obviously someone was desperate to get hold of him. He politely excused himself, thanking Grace for her help in getting the needed variance. Tomorrow morning, his office should be able to get the building permit!

"I'd love to take you to dinner to celebrate, but somebody's wanting to get in touch with me in the worse way." He told Grace politely as she walked him to the elevator. "Perhaps another time?"

Grace smiled back politely. She had no intentions of going to dinner with Alcide. A polite lunch? Maybe, but a long drawn out dinner . . . never. "Thanks Alcide. I'm really not much on dinner out, but we'll grab lunch one day." She politely countered and he smiled back, accepting her refusal gracefully. He headed off for the night, promising to call her with an update tomorrow and Grace returned to the office.

Niall and Nuada were still standing there, waiting for her to return, and Niall couldn't help but take in Grace's appearance. She looked fantastic and he was very proud of his great-grand daughter.

"You look magnificent child!" he told her, simply beaming as she gave him a huge hug. "I cannot believe how well you seem!"

Grace basked in the praise. "You're the first person who's told me that today!" she told him with false pain in her voice, and Nuada frowned, knowing that was directed toward him. They engaged in some polite conversation for a few minutes, then the fairy lord excused himself and with one final warning glare toward Nuada faded away.

Once her great-grandfather was gone, Grace emptied the briefcase, returning the paperwork to the desk, feeling Nuada's gaze on her as she did. Looking over everything, she found herself quite satisfied with what she'd achieved over the past week, turning to smile warmly at Nuada across the room. He was leaning back against the desk, casually watching her, still not believing how good she looked in that suit.

"Come here Erulissë." He told her softly, and Grace did, slowly walking over to stand beside him. She was a little taller with the heels, but still nowhere near as tall as he was. "You look beautiful today." He told her sincerely, his voice low, unusually sensual as he spoke to her. "I should have told you earlier." The most stunning pair of glistening green eyes were locked on hers as he spoke, and Grace could feel her heart beating a little faster than it should have as he stared down at her. His very presence was intoxicating, the rich spicy scent of him enough to cause her breath to shorten, and Grace knew she had to be very careful. This could get out of hand and fast.

"Thank you." She answered politely, "I got it when I went . . ." her voice faded off as Nuada gently pulled her into his arms, holding her against him in the office. It was late, and they were the only two there, and Grace knew she was in a world of trouble. He did not try to kiss her, simply held her against him, his hands moving softly as he rubbed her back. His head was close to hers, his long golden hair like silk as it brushed against her face, his breath warm against her ear. Feeling the warmth of his hands through the grey fabric of her blazer, Grace thought she would go insane. She'd been on fire ever since she left Rivendell, and Nuada was on the verge of making her burst right into flames.

Somehow her arms found their way around his waist of their own volition, enjoying the feel of warm black silk under her hands, and she closed her eyes and just let herself enjoy feeling him against her. As she laid her head on his chest, she could hear the sound of his heart beating, and it was enough to make her stop thinking completely.

"Erulissë?" he whispered in her ear.

Grace thought her heart was going to stop, and he hadn't even done anything to her. "What Nuada?" she whispered back, her voice raw with the desire burning through her. Standing there pressed against him, Grace could feel him breathing against her. There was not one ounce of fat on him, just muscle and bone, pure perfection as he leaned his strong lean body against hers, and Grace could only imagine what was inside those stunning black clothes.

"May I kiss you Erulissë?" he whispered in her ear, and Grace thought she would dissolve into a puddle right there. Leaning away from him, she looked up into the most beautiful pair of emerald green eyes she'd ever seen, and they were on fire. Staring up at him, she wanted to kiss him as bad as she'd ever wanted anything in her life, but she knew it was a terrible idea. They were living together, and they would be opening a Pandora's Box if they started this.

"I don't think that's a very good idea." Grace told him in a breathless whisper, as he leaned down, stopping his lips within a fraction of hers, his breath warm caressing them as he spoke.

"Then don't think about it." He whispered as he brushed his lips ever so faintly against hers, causing Grace to want to scream from wanting him. Nuada could feel the tenseness building in Grace, and he smiled softly to himself, wondering what it would be like to feel that completely released if she yielded to him. Taking his lips away from hers, he ever so softly brushed his nose and lips down her cheek, the moisture from his lips tracing against her skin as he ran his fingers down her hips, using the pressure of his fingertips to trace patterns down her thighs and back again.

Grace felt herself go weak in the knees, and wondered if her heart would stop beating entirely. His hands were carefully roaming over her back and hips and Grace could feel her blood boil as the soft blue flickers began to trace under her skin, instantly aware of his touch. "I can't do this." She finally managed to say, knowing the weak trembling voice she heard come out of her mouth was anything but convincing.

"I can make you forget him Erulissë." Nuada whispered in her ear, and that was the absolute wrong thing to say to Grace at that moment. She stiffened like a board in his arms, her mind immediately flooded with thoughts of Haldir and how she was betraying him at that very moment. Nuada immediately regretted his words, but Grace was already consumed with grief at what she was doing and reached her hands to push him away.

He stopped her, grabbing her hands in his. "Don't pull away Erulissë . . . please . . . I mean not to have offended you so."

His eyes were begging her to reconsider, but Grace couldn't help the hateful comment she threw at him. "If you want to make me forget something, make me forget meeting all of ya'll!" Her voice was vicious, torn by the pain of what he just said to her, not believing he'd actually throw Haldir up to her.

He froze, his eyes changing instantly from burning with passion to flaming with anger as he stared down at her. "All of us? You wish to never have met me Erulissë? The one who saved your very life? Who picked you up after Haldir walked away from you?" His voice was grinding the words out, his strange accent twisting every syllable, forcing her brain to listen to each and every word her threw at her.

That comment drew pure hate out of Grace, and she glared up at him, but he refused to turn loose of her, holding her right where she was. "Answer me Erulissë! Do you wish you never had met me?" he demanded harshly, the silky smoothness of his voice replaced with an edge sharp as steel.

Grace leaned her head back, stainless steel eyes as hard as the very metal they resembled glaring at him, wishing she had never agree to come to this damn office at all. Her voice was rasp with fury, but somehow broken as she considered his question and finally answered him. "I don't regret meeting you Nuada, but don't you ever think you'll make me forget about Haldir!" Grace told him furiously, sliding out of his arms to grab her keys and storm out of the office.

Watching her go, Nuada suddenly found himself frozen, completely unprepared to hear her turn him away in preference of Haldir. Her words tore at his very soul, wounding him deeply, deeper than any words ever had before and he wondered how he would survive this terrible thing he had gotten himself into.


	16. Punishment and Healing

Chapter 16 – Punishment and Healing

The next night Grace pulled her Escalade into the parking lot of Fangtasia for the first time since being attacked. It was the day before Thanksgiving, and she certainly didn't feel very thankful, wondering what on earth she was doing back in this terrible place alone. The very idea of being in the same parking lot where she was attacked terrified Grace, and it took her a good fifteen minutes to work up enough courage to get out of the truck, a panic attack coming very close to overtaking her. Nuada had been conspicuously absent since their altercation last night at the office, and she didn't know that he'd come save her ass if she needed it tonight. She concentrated on Eric's words to her, promising her that she was safe, and she prayed they were true.

Eric was the reason she was here. He called and left a message on her phone while she was at the new house. She'd been digging through more of the storage containers in the garage and hadn't heard it ringing. That was how she'd spent her day. Lingering at the new house, even though it was so full of paint dust you couldn't breath inside so she wouldn't have to face Nuada. When she left the office last night, she didn't go back to the apartment, instead heading to Bon Temps and Sookie's side. Her cousin had listened to her cry, offering her shoulder and her support. She didn't have an answer, but she smiled that comforting smile like she always did and promised Grace it would all work out. Grace had taken a shower and slipped away early that morning, before Sookie ever woke up, determined if Nuada came after her it wouldn't be at her cousins house.

Late that evening when she climbed back into the Escalade it was already dark, and it was only so she could hit a drive through somewhere and come right back. She'd much rather deal with dust than the heat pouring off her body at the thought of Nuada's hands on her again. The truck was already cranked up when she heard the relentless beeping of her cell phone. Assuming it was Sookie or possibly even Nuada, she'd flipped it open impatiently, shocked to see who the call actually came from.

The message wasn't specific, but it was the first time Eric had ever called her. Listening to the recording, Grace found herself struck by the peculiar note in his voice as he asked her to come and see him tonight at Fangtasia, and Grace knew it must be something important. She also assumed he got her number from Sookie, since she surely hadn't given it to him. Sitting there with the truck idling, Grace wondered if Eric was calling about the house or if this was some strange trick to get her to come talk to Nuada, and knew either way she was gonna be very pissed off before this night was over.

Finally, she relented to going, and reluctantly made her way back to the apartment. She was relieved to see the Range Rover Nuada had exchanged the silver BMW for absent from its parking space, and knew he wasn't there. Pleased by his absence, she quickly went to her room, locking the door behind her. If he came back, hopefully he wouldn't bother her.

After a quick shower, she tousled her newly highlighted hair and dressed herself carefully, wondering if Nuada would be in Fangtasia tonight, and what kind of reaction he'd have to her if he was. That thought was foremost in her mind as she considered what to wear, knowing the suit she wore yesterday had knocked his socks off . . . and also knowing that suit was not the only thing she retrieved from her boxes . . . Grace had pulled out a number of "other" items as well, and she knew just the thing to wear for an impromptu visit to a vampire bar!

Quickly digging through the suitcase where she'd stuffed a number of things to hide them, Grace found exactly what she was looking for, and her eyes shown with a pure devilish gleam as she stripped down then began to redress, beginning with a blood red lace bra and panty set. The black leather pants she slid into next were so tight she nearly had to grease her thighs to get them on. They were a special purchase made solely to torture Trey Lockhardt when they went riding on that Harley, and Grace had all ideas they could torment vampires and Fangtasia patrons just as easily. They fit like a second skin, hanging low on her hips while black lacing down the sides allowed glimpses of bronzed flesh to show through.

She paired them with a top that could only be considered sinful – another special purchase - this time made from her favorite high class gothic online boutique. It was the "Rue Morgue Striation Corset" and Grace knew if she ever wanted a man to look at her body, that thing was gonna make it happen. Alternating strips of lush black velvet and blood red satin screamed both decadence and lewdness, all while molding her body into pure female perfection. The shoulder pieces were just wide enough to hide her bra straps, but that front zipper proved too tempting to resist, and Grace unzipped it just far enough to be sure people got to see her red lace bra anyway.

A belt was certainly not needed, but Grace slid on a delicate one of silver links because she liked the way it jingled when she walked. It was a pure slut touch – nothing short of a ringing dinner bell, just daring people to look. A thick black choker with a big gold cross hanging from it finished the look, and when she stepped to the mirror, Grace saw herself landing somewhere between biker chic and holy shit. She couldn't help but study her reflection for a few minutes, and Grace knew if she had ever wanted to get Nuada's attention, this outfit would most certainly do it. She refused to spray herself with her favorite cologne, Versace for Women, after what happened last time, so settled for Poison and headed out the door.

It was her first time actually getting to the door of Fangtasia, and Grace was absolutely terrified once she got there. Sookie and Nuada had invited her several times, but Grace had refused every time, positive the place was going to be trouble. The young looking vampire checking id's at the door gave Grace a quick once over and decided she was definitely going to need some ID, and as Grace was digging it from her purse Pam called to her from behind the skinny gothic looking red head.

"Hey Grace! Nice to see you made it this far!" Pam drawled out her words, the southern accent surprised Grace, since it never occurred to her vampires could come from the south too. Turning toward her, she found the pretty blond vamp looking at her from head to toe in a very uncomfortable way. "Love the outfit!" Pam added with a wink, and Grace thought her heart would stop beating. Grace looked back at the vampire very carefully, immediately knowing who she was although they'd never met before. Sookie told Grace all about her. She was Eric's right hand person and a partial owner of Fangtasia. Sookie also warned Grace that her love interests tended to vary greatly, and Grace believed her considering that uncomfortable stare that was raking over her at that very moment.

"I'm here to see Eric. He left me a message earlier saying we needed to discuss something. He around?" Grace asked nervously, hoping her voice wasn't shaking as much as her insides were.

"Summoned to see Eric!" Pam said with wicked smile. "I heard. He's in his office. I'll let him know you're here". She instantly glided off, somehow walking across the floor without even seeming to touch it to let her boss know his requested guest had finally arrived. Eric had actually made Pam stand at the door and wait for Grace, determined she would have nothing but a pleasant experience there that night.

Grace took a deep breath, knowing that she was completely alone in this horrible place, surrounded by blood sucking vampires. "Gee thanks," Grace muttered to herself, desperately fighting off the urge to run right back out that door behind her. She didn't, forcing herself to remain calm as she went on in.

Grace felt eyes on her as she entered the main bar area from the entrance, and she immediately felt threatened. It was a typical bar - dark, loud and annoying. If you'd seen one bar, you'd seen them all and a vampire bar wasn't a whole lot different, save the fangs jutting from the occasional patrons lips. Walking slowly across the main room of the bar, Grace knew every vampire in that room was assessing her every move, not to mention her. She didn't like the attention she was getting, and decided to head to the bathroom. Maybe she could hide in there until Eric showed up.

That was actually a pretty good idea for Grace. The vampires didn't pay Sookie a lot of attention since she only had a whiff of fairy blood in her, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway since she was Eric's girlfriend, but it was different for Grace. As she met more supes as Sookie called them, Grace found that she had a very distinct effect on them. They instantly either lusted after or hated her. Thankfully, it seemed that for the most part, it was lust, but there had been a few Weres she'd met who worked with Alcide that seemed offended by the very sight of her.

When it happened, Grace realized what Sookie was talking about when she said people despised her for her abilities. All Grace could figure was it must be the blood. Being descended from an Fairy Lord was bad enough. Having had your human blood replaced with elf blood certainly didn't help. To a vampire, an elf or a fairy was like a big juicy steak and walking through that bar she felt like she had a big straw sticking out of her head just begging someone to come and have a taste. Obviously, there were gonna be vampires that hated her on sight too, and Grace could only assume that they didn't like the way elf blood smelled. Regardless, her secret was out because every supernatural creature she met instantly knew that she was no typical human.

Quickly and quietly Grace worked her way across the room, completely unaware of the eyes watching her. Standing in the hallway that led to his office, Eric saw Grace ducking for the bathroom and knew she was terrified. Sookie was with him, Eric calling her to come because he knew how difficult this would be for Grace. Nuada was also standing with them, stunned into silence yet again at the sight of Grace wearing something besides shorts and a tank top. All of them caught sight of the black female vampire that was tracking her through the crowd and knew there was going to be a problem in a minute, Eric quickly motioning across the bar for Pam to intervene until they could reach her.

Thrilled when she made it into the bathroom, Grace headed for the handicap stall, figuring she could pace in there for a while until Eric decided to show up, hoping her heart would stop pounding in the meantime. She didn't even get the stall door closed before she sensed danger, turning just in time to see the black female vampire glaring across the neatly tiled space at her. Why the fuck did I ever agree to come here! she wondered as she turned to face the irate vampire.

The vamp was intent on frightening her, fangs fully extended as she bristled in Grace's face. "We don't like your kind here strange human. You are not welcome." She was taunting Grace, daring the human girl to move from the bathroom stall, ready to tear her to pieces if she did. Already upset by being there, and still furious from her fight with Nuada the night before, Grace suddenly found herself completely overcome with anger. Eric had called her to the damn bar, and he'd promised her she'd be safe. Well where was his sorry ass when she needed him?

Feeling the blue flames of fury begin to flicker beneath her skin, Grace's eyes were already darkening as she smarted right back at her. "You better back off bitch!" Grace told the vampire furiously, slamming the stall door open and glaring right back at her. "I didn't come here tonight to take shit off you!"

By now, Pam had eased into the bathroom, wondering what she was going to find. She wasn't the least bit surprised when she saw vampire bristling in Grace's face, and was just before grabbing her when she launched herself at Grace, flying through the air at lightening speed. Pam panicked, trying desperately to get hold of her, but it didn't matter. Stunning by what she was seeing, Pam could only stare in amazement at what she was seeing, slowly backing herself toward the door.

Grace already had hold of the vampire herself. She didn't need any help from Pam, not that she stood to get any right then anyway. Flaming soft blue under the bright bathroom lights, Grace had caught her, freezing her midair with a thought. Pam stared in amazement as the vampire just hung there not touching anything, completely incapable of moving.

By now, the others had made it to the bathroom and were crowded around the entrance door. Thankfully, the bathroom was empty save Grace and the two female vampires, so the men weren't intruding on anyone. Everyone but Nuada was shocked at how Grace looked. The tiny blue flames licking at her skin left little doubt to how furious she was, and there was an excellent chance she was fixing to kill the vampire she had hold of. Eric looked to Nuada for help and he immediately went to her side. Slipping quietly to stand beside her, Nuada knew not to touch her, only reasoning with her gently in that low soothing voice she liked so much. "Erulissë, let her go. We are here, you are safe now. No one is going to hurt you, I promise."

Grace didn't move. She heard Nuada's words but she was overcome with anger at being threatened. Glancing black eyes toward Eric and Sookie by the door, she answered Nuada's claim. "Safe my ass." She growled out softly, her voice low and evil as she spoke, her anger clearly evident to the vampire at the door.

"My apologies Grace. I assure you, I will take care of her personally if you will simply let her go." Eric's voice was the same Nuada's had been, soft and gentle, reassuring Grace she was safe. Sliding her eyes back to the female vampire she had hold of, Grace gritted her teeth, determined she would kill her for threatening her that night.

Sookie's voice was the one Grace finally relented to. "Sweetie. Just let her go, and Eric will take care of her. You can believe him. I promise he won't let anything happen to you."

Grace cut her black eyes over at her cousin, seeing her standing there in front of Eric and knowing she would not lie to her. Slowly she raked them back over the vampire she had hold of, slamming her against the tile floor with enough force to crack several of them. If that had been a human, she would've been dead instantly. Still fuming, Grace stood over her, glaring down at her now shocked face. "You ever try to touch me again bitch, and I swear I'll kill you."

Grace hesitated for the longest moment, then finally stepped clear of her, brushing past Sookie to stare up at Eric. "And if you ever let a vampire in here touch me, you'll be next." Eric's eyebrows shot up as he looked down at the small, beautiful woman beside him, hearing her words and believing them. Sookie gave him an uncertain look, hoping Grace didn't really mean that, and Eric's hand on her arm kept her from going after Grace as she angrily stomped away. Grace still had that strange blue glow and he didn't want Sookie anywhere near her right now. Nuada could calm her down first.

Making her way back toward the front door of the bar, Grace intended to leave. She was still completely enraged and more than ready to kill anyone that laid so much as a finger on her. Nuada caught up to her, carefully placing his hand at the small of her back, silently steering her to the bar and easing her onto a stool there. Easing onto the one next to her, he struggled to calm her down.

"Just breathe, Erulissë." He told her gently, ordering her a vodka double and pressing it into her hand. "Eric still needs to speak with you. Please drink this and calm yourself Erulissë." His voice was soft and soothing, his hand slowly rubbing her back, and Grace slammed back the drink. Eric was damn lucky Nuada was there, because if he hadn't been, there was a big chance she would have killed a whole lot of vampires right then.

It took a while, nearly thirty minutes and another vodka double for Grace to stop shaking. Nuada was watching her very carefully, prepared to stop anyone who might attempt to bother her, and also prepared to stop Grace should she lose her temper. Last night was forgotten as he focused on the problem at hand, knowing Eric needed Grace that night. When she was finally calm, he stood, taking her hand and gently pulling her from the barstool. "Come Erulissë." He told her quietly, guiding her through the bar to Eric's office.

They entered the somewhat small room, Eric already sitting behind a large desk, his feet propped up on the side. Eric looked like Eric always did. He was dressed in the same snug jeans and black Fangtasia t-shirt Grace had gotten used to seeing him. Sookie was leaning against a cabinet behind him, his hand on her ass as she stood there, and Grace sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Nuada stood behind her, his hand resting softly on her shoulder as she waited to see what the vampire wanted. He seemed to be studying her intently, and it was irritating Grace to no end. "Finding anything new?" Grace asked him sarcastically, nearly ready to come over the desk and slap him for what just happened to her.

"Always!" Eric answered with a slight smile, and Grace gave him a warning glare.

"Don't push it tonight dead man." she told him flatly, her voice low and full of venom as she spoke. "I might love my cousin, but I'm completely pissed off at you and I'm more than ready to leave this damn bar."

Eric only smiled back at her, shaking his head. "Give a guy some credit won't you! I'm just looking - The new outfit is a very big change for you . . . and it is quite nice if I may say so myself!" He told her with a hint of sarcasm, giving her another undressing stare as Sookie slapped him on the arm.

"Eric! Stop picking on her!" Sookie hissed. "You're just gonna make her that much madder!"

Grace shook her head disapprovingly at the vampire, but couldn't help smiling slightly at Sookie. They made a very nice couple, and Eric was obviously very much in love with her cousin.

"So," Grace asked, "What brings me to your friendly little establishment this evening?" Eric's expression changed dramatically with her question, and she could tell he was very concerned about something.

Looking around her, Grace suddenly worried that something was very, very wrong. She was trapped in this little office with Nuada, Eric, Pam and her cousin. This did not seem like a good thing. "What's wrong Eric?" she asked nervously, suddenly feeling her heart begin to race in fear.

"I have a problem." Eric answered flatly, his voice giving off no emotion as he spoke, his face like stone. "I have a vampire within my area who has broken one of our most sacred rules, and I would like your help in repairing the damage if possible." Grace knew from listening to Eric that he was much more interested in making money that making war, so she wasn't surprised that he would try to fix whatever had been done to keep the peace. After all, keeping peace with the Lord Niall was the only reason she was alive and sitting in the chair in front of him.

"Go on," Grace said, her mind working a thousand miles a minute, wondering what on earth he could possibly want her help with.

Eric was frowning terribly when he spoke again, his very expression giving Grace the chills as a voice cold as death began to explain, "Last evening, a young vampire from another area came into my territory and attacked a young Were child. If I understand events correctly, the girl is only around twelve years old in earth years. She was bitten and . . ." Eric stopped speaking and clenched his teeth for a moment, his very expression telling Grace more than any words could have. He collected himself, then continued. "I am being held responsible as sheriff of this area, and I need to repair the damage, or I'm going to find myself in the middle of a Were war." He sat up in his chair to stare at Grace across the desk. "I don't need that right now."

Behind him, Sookie was cringing at his words, not believing such a thing had happened. Grace was sitting in the chair stunned. She'd stopped listening somewhere right after she heard vampire attack and child. Thinking back to what happened to her, she could instantly feel the anger boiling up inside her, and the blue flickers were soon flowing underneath her skin.

Grace returned Eric's gaze with a burning one of her own, her very eyes glowing with sapphire flames in their depths as her strained voice crossed the room. "What do you want me to do?"

Eric looked over at Grace, remembering everything Nuada and Sookie told him she was capable of, praying it was true. "I was hoping you could use your special talents to heal the girl." he answered carefully. "If you can repair the physical damage, I can erase the memories from her mind. When we finish, the child should be restored, and her parents satisfied."

Knowing she could help the child, Grace suddenly thought of something just as important to her. "What about the vampire who attacked her? Where is he?" The look in her eyes and the coldness in her voice told Eric that Grace was expecting to hear he was already dead, and she looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear his answer.

Eric frowned even harder at that question. "It is an unwritten rule that the young are off limits, and the one responsible has been captured. I'm holding him nearby."

Eric paused, looking at Grace uncertainly, "I was saving him for you Grace. I thought you might like to have a go at him after you heal the girl. I know you're still angry about your own attack and thought you might enjoy making him suffer as thanks for helping the child."

In the chair across from him Grace smiled, and seeing the look in her eyes made Eric's own blood run cold. "I would enjoy that very much Eric," Grace told him softly. "We can take my truck." She'd never seriously considered hurting anyone before that vampire in the bathroom tonight, but a vampire who's attacked a young girl? Bring it!

Eric looked pleased as he stood up. "Give me about fifteen minutes to make some calls and arrange things, then we'll go."

Grace nodded, also rising from her chair, Nuada instantly at her side. "Well, I'm going to have another drink while I wait, so get me from the bar."

Eric was surprised she intended to go back into the bar, but Grace had already made up her mind the next thing with fangs that tried to touch her was a gonner, and she wasn't one bit afraid of going back out there as she opened the door.

"You won't have any problems," Eric assured her, trading knowing looks with Nuada before glancing at Pam. She'd already taken care of the offending vampire from the bathroom and was watching Grace carefully herself. Grace left the room without another word, Sookie and Pam staying with Eric as he picked up the phone.

Grace didn't know about enjoyment, but on occasion she did like to have a drink, although after two doubles, she knew she didn't need another one. She crossed the bar, knowing Nuada was walking behind her staring at her ass, then settled onto a stool and ordered a Sprite. No reason to tempt fate when you didn't have to, and she needed a clear head for the night ahead.

Nuada was beside her the entire way, watching her intently, wondering how Grace would handle all of this tonight. He was still very hurt by her comments from the night before, but he was also very concerned for the human woman trusted to his care. She seemed so fragile at times, and he knew what Eric told her about the child had upset her terribly, bringing back memories of her own attack. She wasn't talking, but he was listening to her thoughts, seeing the images of her own attack, knowing why she was reacting so strongly to this. He hadn't forgotten how Grace looked the first time he saw her on that balcony, and he couldn't imagine what that child was going to look like. He wouldn't mind killing that vampire himself, and if Grace couldn't do it, he intended to.

Only a few minutes later, Eric and Sookie came to them indicating it was time to go, so Grace finished up her drink, laid a few dollars on the bar and walked out with Nuada. They piled into her truck, Nuada in the front with Grace, Eric and Sookie in the back seat, and headed out to Were country. Grace followed Eric's directions to the middle of absolutely nowhere, and found herself in a little community of small, simple houses arranged in a tight cluster in the middle of a field. Eric indicated it was the second house on the left, so Grace pulled into what she assumed was supposed to be the drive. It as actually a bare spot in the grass, but it seemed a safe assumption. Exiting the truck, Eric walked her to the door while Sookie and Nuada hung back at the truck. They were only there for moral support, both hoping Grace didn't snap before this was over.

Eric knocked gently on the door, and a huge man opened it. "Hello Alcide" Eric said politely. "I've brought Grace."

Grace found herself stunned to be facing the man she'd just spent yesterday afternoon with and smiled up at him gently. He looked like hell, and he damn near swallowed his tongue when he saw how she was dressed, making Grace feel like a complete ass. If Eric had bothered to tell her what this night was really about, she could have worn a damn pair of shorts and a sweatshirt! "Hello again, Alcide. I hope I can help." Grace told him somewhat self-consciously, trying to ignore the undressing stare and doubtful look he gave her as he motioned them inside.

Walking into the house, Grace could immediately feel the pain in the air. Looking around, she saw a fairly young couple clinging to each other on a dark plaid couch. The woman looked like she had been crying nonstop and her eyes were nearly swollen shut. The man didn't look much better. He obviously hadn't shaved and had huge black circles under his eyes. Grace couldn't imagine what they were going through, and remembered what she felt like after she was attacked. It had been one of the most horrible events of her life, and she was an adult.

Taking a deep breath, Grace forced herself to focus. She needed to remain in complete control to help this child, and listened intently as Alcide spoke to her. "Grace, I've been real impressed with you and the house plans." Alcide told her firmly. "But I'm the pack master of this area and I'm going to be honest with you. I don't believe you can do what Eric tells me you can, but I'm willing to let you to try."

Grace looked at him, clearly surprised by his directness. You had to hand to the man, he was honest if he wasn't anything else. "I can help the girl, just take me to her." She told him firmly, her voice steady as a rock.

Alcide gave Grace one more long uncertain stare, wondering what on earth this little woman who was so talented on a computer could possibly do to heal a child who was so damaged. He said nothing, only clenched his jaw and led Grace and Eric down the hall to a small bedroom. It was decorated for a little girl with pink paint, pretty white furniture and frilly curtains, and Grace wanted to cry when she saw it because it reminded her of all those hours she spent in that bedchamber in Rivendell.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, determined she would help this child tonight. Opening them again, she turned toward the bed and saw the young girl sleeping there. She had been pretty before this, Grace was sure of it, looking at her long dark hair spread out around her head on the pillow. The child had obviously been beaten badly and in addition to the torn open neck, her face was swollen completely out of proportion and was every shade of black, blue and purple. Looking at her, Grace thought of the sad little dolls you saw sometimes at the dump, all torn and broken. Imagining what the rest of her looked like, Grace stood staring down at her, wondering if this was how Haldir felt the night he stood looking down at her for the first time.

Knowing it was getting to her, Eric placed a supportive hand on her arm to help Grace steady herself. She appreciated it, taking a moment to focus on her breathing and calm her heart.   
Glancing around the room, she saw a small chair sitting over by a desk in the corner, and pulled it over by the bed. Slipping to sit, Grace pulled the embroidered comforter off the child, smiling to herself when she saw the Dora nightgown she wore with the little monkies all over them. Closing her eyes, Grace pulled from deep within her and felt herself turning. When her eyes opened again, she could see the blue glow that had overtaken her and gently reached over to the child.

Somewhere behind her, Alcide drew in a sharp breath, not believing what he was seeing and Eric just stood there frozen, still as stone as they watched what was happening in front of them. Grace gently began to stroke the child's cheek and slowly every cut, every bruise began to fade away. It took a few minutes, but as she reached up to smooth the hair back from her face, it was a perfectly beautiful little face again. She smiled to herself, then lowered her hands, slowly placing them on the child's stomach and closing her eyes. The bastard had truly tormented the precious child, and it took Grace some time to repair both the physical and mental pain of the attack. Finally, Grace was satisfied that the girl was healed, and even checked her arms and legs right down to her toes to be sure she hadn't so much as a hangnail before she stood up from the chair. Giving her one more lingering look, Grace was pleased to see a gorgeous healthy child laying where the broken one had been.

She stood up, the blue glow beginning to fade as she pushed the healing aura back down within herself and turned eyes shining with emotion toward Eric. "Your turn" she told him softly, glancing toward Alcide. As formidable as the man was, he looked like he was in some state of shock. Leaving the two men in the room, Grace slipped back down the paneled hall to the den where the parents were. They looked up at her expectantly as she entered the room, and Grace walked over to comfort them.

"Your little girl is going to be just fine." Grace's soft southern voice reassured them, seeing the mother dissolve into tears again. Giving her a sympathetic hug, the blue glimmer that passed over her was so fast even if you'd been staring you wouldn't have seen it. By the time Grace pulled away, the woman was already looking better and Grace turned to her husband, carefully putting her hand on his shoulder as the elusive blue flickers flashed again. Satisfied, Grace stepped back, smiling gently at both of them. "Things will be better for you now." She told them firmly, and she knew it was true.

Relieved it was over, Grace went outside, desperate for the cool night air to clear her head. She had no idea how long it would take Eric to glamour the child, and was surprised when the door opened behind her only a second after she closed it. Alcide and Eric walked out together, both staring at her like she was an alien who had landed. Grace frowned at both of them, shaking her head angrily to herself, despising the attention. Alcide's green eyes were locked on her, his face still covered with an amazed expression. "Grace, please let me tell you thank . . . I had no idea . . . I'm sorry I was so rude earlier." He finally told her.

Grace gave him a half-smile, "You're very welcome Alcide. I'm just glad I could help." She stopped, frowning that someone else knew what she was capable of doing. "Just please promise you won't tell anyone, alright? I don't feel like being put in a padded room for observation."

Alcide smiled down at Grace, neither did he! "You've got my word." His firm, rough voice assured her and Grace felt relieved. Alcide was obviously a powerful supernatural creature in his own right, and she trusted him to keep her secret safe.

Nuada had come to stand on the porch as the men began to discuss the vampire's punishment, and Grace took the opportunity to walk away. She found Sookie immediately by her side as she made her way back toward the Cadillac gleaming in the moonlight. "You ok?" Sookie asked gently, seeing the somewhat shaken appearance of her cousin. "Could you help her?"

Keeping her eyes glued on the ground, Grace only nodded in return. She didn't feel much like talking about it right then, still fighting to keep the blue flames under control as she wrestled with the images of what she'd just seen and the memories of what she'd been through herself. Sookie was getting all kinds of mental images from her. She didn't see Grace immediately after the attack, but it had to be horrible judging from the feelings that were reflecting back toward her.

Behind them, Eric and Nuada were standing on that porch telling Alcide how they were going to let Grace have the vampire responsible, and he seemed quite pleased. Alcide had pack members guarding the vampire to ensure he got his due, but the most they could do was kill him. He wanted him to suffer first. After seeing how Grace could heal someone, Alcide could only imagine how she could punish someone, and he thought giving her a shot at him seemed like a great idea.

As Eric and Nuada made their way back to the truck, Alcide called out to them. "Let me know how it goes." He really wished he could go watch, but his place was there. Eric nodded that he would, and climbed back into the truck, joining Sookie as she sat in the backseat.

Standing beside the door of her truck, Grace felt completely overwhelmed at what she'd just seen and done. The memories of her own attack were threatening to overtake her, and she still didn't completely understand how she was able to heal people that way. She'd been so out of sorts the night she healed Nuada, she barely even knew she did it . . . she hadn't been able to see him either, didn't know how he looked before or after she touched him. Thinking back to the little girls face, Grace was shocked by what she'd just done.

Sensing her growing turmoil, Nuada came to stand with her. His reassuring hand on her shoulder was comforting as he spoke, that soft low voice calming in the quiet darkness of the night. "You have done a wonderful thing here tonight Erulissë." He told her gently. "And you need to do nothing more unless you desire it. Leave the vampire and let me take you home if you are upset. Punishment can be served a different way." His emerald eyes were speaking to her just as his voice was, telling her that it was alright to be upset right now, that nothing more was expected of her.

Grace didn't say a word back to him, only turned to him with glowing grey eyes full of emotion, desperately needing him to tell her she was going to be alright. He didn't say another word, just pulled her into his arms, holding her against him as he kissed her on top of the head. "You are remarkable Erulissë. Truly remarkable." When he knew she had completely calmed down, he pulled back from her, his finger catching her chin to tip it up to his gaze. "Do you want to go home now, or do you want to finish this?" Saying nothing, she simply patted him on the chest and turned to open the truck door.

As they settled into the truck, Grace found Nuada's gentle hand on hers as Eric's voice came from the back seat. "Very impressive Grace, very impressive." Grace frowned at the vampire's words sitting behind her, and was suddenly glad for Nuada's comforting hand on hers. She trusted Eric, but she wasn't stupid either. Eric wanted money, and Grace was positive he could think of a thousand ways she could make it for him, but that was never going to happen.

And Grace was entirely correct in her assumptions about the powerful vampire sheriff in her truck. Eric was completely enamored by Sookie. Grace's cousin turned him on in ways he could only imagine and her gift of mental hearing had saved his ass many, many times but Grace was something completely different. The power she possessed was nothing short of amazing, and Eric now knew why Lord Niall and Nuada wanted to protect her so fiercely. It was hard to believe two descendents of the same bloodline could have turned out so differently.

Heading back into town, Eric began to give her a new set of directions, and Grace found herself in a strange location outside of town, finally ending up in front of an old abandoned warehouse. Nuada recognized it immediately as the place where the tribunal had been held. Obviously, the vampires used it regularly for their business. Grace parked where Eric indicated, none too happy to be leaving her truck in such an awful place, not even for a little while. When everyone had exited, she set the alarm and prayed it would still be there when she came back out.

Entering the warehouse through the huge hole in the side, Eric silently led them toward the far left corner. They were met by two men who Grace knew instantly weren't actually men at all. They were weres, just like Alcide. She'd never seen one change, but Sookie had seen plenty, and told her all about it. Exchanging brief words with Eric, their eyes raked over Grace and Nuada, then they stepped aside for the group to pass. They weren't paying Sookie any attention – they were very familiar with her – but Grace had their undivided attention. The call from Alcide had come just before the Escalade pulled up, telling them how the girl was healed and they were relieved of their duties. The vampire was being handed over to Eric and the others for punishment.

Alcide also told his friends what happened in the house, and the guards were in no hurry to leave. They wanted to see what this plain looking little human woman could possibly do to the large ferocious male vampire currently chained in silver to an old office desk in the corner.   
Truth be told, everyone in the group was wondering what Grace was going to do to the vampire, including Nuada. He had seen Grace angry, seen her go after Haldir that night, and he had felt her healing power as it saved him that night too. Grace was very powerful, but he'd never seen her completely turned loose on anyone. As he told Eric at Fangtasia, he was content to let Grace do as she pleased, but should that vampire so much as breath on her, he was dead and it would be done his way.

Standing there, Grace didn't know what she intended to do to the vampire either. This was uncharted territory for her. It wasn't like she was just going to walk up to somebody and simply kill them with a thought! Slowly, she approached the vampire and he snarled at them, his attention not on her but on Nuada as he stood close behind her. The two Weres and Sookie were standing off to the side, but Eric was almost as close as Nuada was, perfectly content to be as close to the action as possible. He couldn't believe what he'd seen her do a few minutes ago, and he wanted to see what she was gonna do now.

Standing there, Grace completely forgot about where she was or who she was with. Her mind was slowly filling itself with memories of her attack, all the pain she'd suffered that night rushing back over her, reminding of her how broken she had been. The feelings she drew from the child were there to, mixed right in with hers, the potent cocktail of emotions flooding her senses, overriding her mind and taking over her body as she stood there.

Nuada could sense the change in her. The strange blue flickers were beginning to build under her skin, and small curls of grey smoke were beginning to float around her feet. Somewhere far behind her, Sookie was watching her cousin in completely amazement, not believing the pure fury she could feel pouring off her. It was so strong it was making the sand on the floor stir into tiny little ripples, and standing so close to her even Eric could feel it pressing against him.

Ever so slowly, Grace stepped closer to where the vampire was chained to the desk. He was still focused on Eric and Nuada, barely acknowledging this human in front of him. Grace's black eyes saw where the silver had burned his skin and a slight feeling of pleasure wafted over her, happiness that he had suffered some tiny bit while he was waiting. As her black eyes took in every inch of him, his eyes suddenly met hers, hazel eyes pure of hate and disgust for the helpless human in front of him. Extending his fangs, he hissed at her, straining against the chains burning into his flesh as he fought to reach her. They might kill him, but that didn't mean he couldn't take this last human woman down with him.

His aggression only fueled her own, and Grace slowly caught the vampire with her mind, lifting him from the floor until he was hanging in the air just above the desk. Sookie was surprised already, whispering "Oh shit" under her breath as she backed a few steps farther away. Grace was oblivious to anything but the vampire, and threw her fury toward the vampire, the desk folding in her path, exploding into a choking cloud of dust where something solid had been only seconds before. The two Weres were the ones backing up that time, as they stared in shock at the dust settling down where the desk had been.

Letting her anger take over completely, Grace took the vampire and hurled him back against the wall of the warehouse like a piece of trash. His body make a sick crunching sound when it hit the wall, pressing it's shape into the sheet metal siding as she shoved the pain from her mind against him. Painfully, slowly Grace stepped closer to him, the pain stretching out before her pushing against his body harder and harder, like waves beating against the sand. Slowly his body folded under her assault, each and every bone in his body snapping one at a time – all except his head – she was saving that. The loud popping sounds could be heard all over the warehouse, almost like popcorn in a microwave, and no one could believe the sheer power they were witnessing at work.

With black eyes firmly locked on her target, Grace walked closer to the struggling vampire, dragging him down to her level, scraping his body down the rough metal, listening with satisfaction as it ripped his flesh apart. When she got him down to her level, Grace walked right up to him. Tilting her head oddly as she studied him, she reached out with her hand and placed a single finger directly into the middle of his forehead.

Everyone watched in complete amazement as her bright blue finger burned a perfect circle on the vampires flesh as she traded him all the pain the child had suffered. The vampire went completely insane, relentless blood curling screams the likes of which no one there had ever heard tearing from him over and over. They echoed through the open warehouse and it was worse than any horror film ever made. As he screamed, Grace stepped away, silently taking hold of the silver chain with her mind, and unwinding it from his arms and legs.

Still staring at him intently, she began to wrap it around his neck, tighter and tighter as his flat hazel eyes begged her for mercy. Unmoved and unrelenting, Grace only glared at him in return, enjoying the sight of what was left of him, smiling slightly to herself as she turned and began to walk away. As she did, she crushed him as flat as a burst balloon against the metal wall of the warehouse, the silver chain tightening until it tore the vampires head clean off, just as he exploded into nothing more than black dust.

Knowing she needed to calm down, Grace walked away from the others. She found a quiet corner, closing her eyes and forcing her mind to stop working she willed the blue cast to leave her skin, forcing the anger to back down. It was over, the child was healed and the vampire was dead. She could stop now. It took her some time to settle, but finally she had hold of herself, and opened her eyes to find Nuada standing close to her. He knew not to touch her when the blue cast had hold of her, but now that it was gone, he silently pulled her into his arms, knowing she needed comfort right then.

In the other part of the warehouse, Eric and Sookie were looking over the remains of the vampire in complete amazement, the Weres not even daring to get close to the devastation they'd just seen. Holding Grace against him, Nuada was deep in thought himself. Grace was stronger now than she'd been in Rivendell, not doubt another side effect from those nightmares. If her power continued to grow, Nuada worried that Grace would never be able to stay in control. He already wondered how much Grace had restrained herself not to kill Haldir that night in the clearing. As angry as she'd been, she could have crushed him to dust, and Haldir had no idea how lucky he was that she didn't.

When he knew she was calm, he said nothing, only took her hand and led her to the truck. Eric and Sookie were there and once Nuada settled Grace into the passenger seat, he drove her truck back to Fangtasia, slipping the Escalade next to Eric's Corvette.

"Come inside." Eric invited her gently. "You've had a long night. You deserve a drink." Grace didn't argue, sliding from the truck, and waiting for Nuada to take her hand before she went inside. Eric took Sookie into his office for some quiet time, knowing she was shaken by what she'd seen and Nuada steered Grace back to the bar, ordering another vodka drink and placing it in her hand.

Sitting beside Grace, Nuada couldn't help but be amazed by her. The past few weeks with Grace had been unlike anything else in his long life, and he was as enamored with her as he'd ever been by anything. Being around her was like watching an iceberg melt, ever so slowly and he hoped he was there when it melted completely. Grace had warmed to him but it took time and a lot of effort, and he knew he should never have allowed himself to touch her last night. She trusted him, and she was letting him see little bits and pieces of her, one tiny fragment at a time. There was so much about her he did not know, so much that he wanted to know, he prayed he hadn't ruined it all.

It was very late now, and it wasn't long before the band retired for the evening. Suddenly the loud wild music was replaced with soft, soothing romantic sounds as couples pairing up for the night took the dance floor, taking the opportunity to rub themselves against each other in the dim light. Nuada silently took Grace's hand, guiding her off her stool into the middle of them, gently pulling her against him as they began to sway to the music. Her body was warm, soft, and fit against his perfectly. Pressing his head gently against hers, Nuada immediately found himself wishing she didn't feel so good.

Leaning close against his chest, Grace found that she could hear Nuada's heart beating and it made her feel safe, even loved. He felt better now than he did last night in the office, that dark spicy scent of him completely intoxicating, working with the alcohol against her resistance. Feeling the warmth of his body pressed against hers, Grace suddenly found her mind revisiting the thoughts she'd fought against last night.

 _What would Haldir think if he could see her right now? Why did she even care what Haldir thought? Where was Haldir? Why hadn't she heard from him? What if she never saw him again? Why did she have to be so lonely? What made her think Nuada would ever want her anyway?_ As the thoughts tore through her, Nuada held her close, his arms providing a safe surround for her, his voice warm and soothing when his breath ran over her ear. "Erulissë, there is no shame in being lonely." He whispered so soft she barely heard him, "And never doubt that any man would want you."

Grace thought her heart would stop beating when she heard that. Looking up, her grey eyes slamming into an emerald green wall. Nuada's eyes burned as he looked down at her, and Grace knew it was all up to her. Across the bar, Eric and Sookie were watching with great interest, silently hoping Grace would give in to Nuada. They were their friends, and both of them knew the emotions of each side. Eric thought it was ridiculous Grace was martyring herself to love someone she might never see again, and Sookie wanted her cousin to find happiness with a man who'd treat her properly and was physically available.

Grace allowed herself a few more minutes in his arms, then pulled herself free, not meeting his gaze as she quickly went for the back door and her truck. Easing into the safety of the cool grey leather seat, Grace leaned forward, resting her forehead on the steering wheel. The entire night threatened to overwhelm her, everything she had been through over the past several hours, the past few weeks, the past several months seeming to hit her all at once. She was a complete emotional wreck, and she was struggling to survive. These strange abilities, the whole experience of Rivendell, finding out about Sookie, dealing with Nuada and Haldir, vampires and elves . . . it all seemed like a weird dream and Grace was waiting to wake up, only she was awake, and this was her new reality.

She was so lost in thought, she didn't even hear the truck door open when Nuada came to her. Only his hands, gently pulling her from the truck let her know he was there, his eyes searching her face intently in the soft light shining down from the parking lot fixture. "Erulissë?" he spoke to her softly, "Have I offended you again?"

Grace stared at him, lost in his huge green eyes, so sincere as he looked down at her. "Nope, just made me horny as hell." Grace told him, the words coming out of her mouth before she realized she actually said exactly what she was thinking. Slapping her hands over her mouth, she turned red as a beet, while Nuada dissolved into soft laughter, finally losing himself completely to it, laughing as hard as he could. Grace was so embarrassed she wanted to die, turning away from him and staring intently at the interior of her truck in some mild state of shock . Obviously, that last vodka drink had been a little too much, and Grace reminded herself not to ever do that again.

Pulling her into his arms, Nuada turned her to face him, hugging her tightly, kissing the top of her head as he continued to chuckle softly. "Erulissë, I never know what to expect from you!" Pulling away from her slightly, he took her still red face into his hands and looked at her gently. "Erulissë, you are a beautiful woman. No man in his right man would refuse you, but I am aware the desires of your heart. I mean not to tempt you."

Grace stared back at him, taking in every gorgeous detail. "You could tempt a nun." She told him quietly, and she meant it. The man could light a room on fire, simply by walking inside.

He laughed again, shaking his head as he smiled at her. "Go home, Erulissë! Sleep it off. You did very well tonight!" He took her hand and kissed it gently, same as he always did, then turned to go back into the bar, still laughing softly to himself as he went.

Watching him leave, Grace suddenly realized she didn't want him to go. It seemed as if her body took over where her mind left off, and she rushed after him. "Nuada!" she called to him, thrilled to see him stop and turn back to her, still smiling as he looked down at her.

"Yes, Erulissë?"

Grace didn't say one word, simply grabbed his face in her hands and drug his mouth down to hers. When his lips hit hers, she felt like everything in her came alive, it was like plugging in a Christmas tree, she lit up from the inside out. She kissed him senseless, and he was shocked at first, not knowing what to do. Recovering quickly, Nuada kissed her right back, dragging her against him as he took complete possession of her mouth with his. Haldir could kiss her until she thought her heart would stop, but she barely knew her name by the time Nuada turned loose of her.

When they finally broke free from one another, Grace was completely consumed by the tiny blue flickers running under her skin, demanding she relent to the burning passion roaring through her. She immediately backed away from him a step, one hand over her pounding heart as huge grey eyes locking with emerald green ones in the dim light.

"Erulissë, you play a very dangerous game." He told her softly, his eyes flaming as brightly as hers. "When you are ready to finish it, let me know." He nodded to her politely, then turned and disappeared into the bar, leaving her in the parking lot wondering what in the hell she just did.

Climbing into her truck, she sat there in shock. Silently the flames overtook her, burning her very soul as the realization she had actually taken a life washed over her. Struggling to breathe, she managed to get the truck cranked up, and was just slipping it into gear when Sookie came running out the back door. She could feel Grace sinking, could feel the horror of what she'd done washing over her and she was trying to get to her, knowing she needed help.

Grace wouldn't let Sookie near her, afraid of the flames covering her and what she was capable of doing. Tearing backwards out of the parking spot, she slammed the truck into gear and roared out of the lot, disappearing into the darkness. Behind her, Sookie was horrified. Nuada should never have left Grace alone - there was no telling where she would go, or what she might do now.


	17. Pleasures of the Flesh

Chapter 17– Pleasures of the Flesh

The night Grace left Fangtasia had proven to be a difficult one. After leaving the bar, Grace was terrified, overwhelmed by the anger that consumed her earlier, horrified that she took a life, even if that life did belong to a vampire. The Escalade had wandered aimlessly all over Shreveport, the panicked driver incapable of coherent thought. She'd driven for hours on end, not even knowing where or when she stopped.

The cold rain soaked her body as Grace stood beside her truck, pouring out her very soul to the heavens, begging them to open themselves for her and wash away her pain. They answered, the rolling thunder and torrential rain flinging themselves against the luxury flat where Nuada now paced, telling him she was in dire need.

He was still recovering from the way Sookie had crawled in his face when she walked back in Fangtasia, overwhelmed by the pure destruction she felt in her cousin's mind. Eric had intervened, pulling his hysterical girlfriend off his closest friend, the sympathetic look telling Nuada that he sincerely hoped he would find Grace safe and unharmed. Listening to the very heavens tell him she was not, Nuada wondered how she could possibly be unharmed by all of this. His very aura was on fire, his own mind tormented by the pain and grief she was feeling, his lips burning with the heat from her earlier kiss. Should he go to her?

The rusted shell of the warehouse provided a strange form of solitude and comfort for Grace when she returned, needing to stand in that very spot again and not feel the anger overtake her. Grace needed closure, needed to know what she did was right, needed to know what she had become. Her trembling hands were full of black ash, the satiny powder a painful reminder of what she'd done to that vampire as she stood there, her tear stained face pressed against the cold rusted metal as the pouring rain lashed against the building around her.

Enjoying the darkness surrounding her, Grace closed her eyes. Ten dirty fingers slowly caressed the bloody metal, her tortured mind imagining the slickness of the surface was the smoothness of skin as her fingertips stroked across it. She was on fire. Her own skin burned with the loneliness of a soul abandoned, her body yearned to be possessed again the way it had so many weeks before, somehow knowing the touch of a man would ease this torment that consumed her.

Wet clothes clung to her body as she stood in the solitude of that empty metal shell, the frigid droplets slowly running down the leather top in little rivulets, forcing her to stay awake as they dripped on her now bare feet. She was trembling from the cold, the crisp air of late November biting her as the icy concrete she stood on sucked the warmth from her feet. Grace prayed the freezing dampness would wake her from this terrible dream, or numb her senses enough she would not care.

When the strange scent of leather and dark spices drifted across her senses, Grace did think she was dreaming, but when two very strong and familiar arms wrapped themselves around her, she felt her knees go weak. Alabaster skin softer than the finest silk pressed against her face as he lowered his head to hers, sun lit hair falling across her skin as Nuada embraced her from behind. Grace trembled violently as he pulled her against him, the warmth of his body bleeding through the cold leather of her top to tell her he was there.

"Erulissë . . ." the soft voice whispered, warm breath on her ear as the words came, "what might I do to comfort you?"

Captured in his grasp, Grace felt her heartbeat quicken, her skin suddenly alive as satin tendrils of his hair tickled her face, tormenting the exposed flesh of her neck as silky strands slipped within the collar of her jacket. She struggled for enough breath to answer him, her pain flooding through his mind as he held her sodden form. "I killed somebody." Grace whispered as the first sob tore through her, ripping through her very soul as she folded beneath the weight of what she had done.

Catching her as she fell, Nuada gently gathered her against him, cradling her half frozen form to his chest, instantly taking her from that terrible place. The granite tiles were smooth but warm against the soles of her feet when Grace touched a floor again. It was much brighter here, the filtered light gently caressing the strange pair as it fell from carefully hidden fixtures in the ceiling.

Still shaking violently from the cold, Grace was turned toward the sink. The exotic dark wood of the vanity supported her as Nuada collected her hands in his, leading them to the warm water now rushing to fill the sink before her. His elegant fingers were diligent in their work, slowly massaging the soap against her skin, determined to remove every trace of blood and ash as he pressed against her.

When the warmth of his breath ran across the nape of her neck, her fingers instinctively tightened against his, telling him she was aware of his touch on her flesh. The slight smile that caught his lips was hidden from her as Nuada leaned even closer, his body firm against her back as he turned the water off, slowly pulling away from her after he did. Grace was abandoned again, clinging to the vanity as cold seeped through her very pores, her dampness slowly pooling on the floor around her while she yearned for him to return.

Suddenly the sounds of rushing water filled the room, accompanied by the softest music, and Grace realized Nuada had cut on a shower. Dazed from emotion and the cold, she turned, shocked to find herself facing the most unbelievable glass shower she'd ever seen, thousands of gold and silver sparkles twinkling like stars against the midnight granite under the soft lights.

Nuada had his back to her, the black silk rippling over his shoulders as he diligently pressed buttons on the control panel, telling the various electronic temperature controls, body sprays and overhead rain heads what he expected from them. Satisfied with his chosen settings, Nuada touched the lighting controls, dimming the lights to little over a bare glow before returning to stand in front of her.

Huge grey eyes glowed as he spoke to her, his very presence commanding her senses to wake. "While you were most beautiful tonight Erulissë, I fear we must get these wet clothes off you." He whispered softly, taking the zipper of her top and slowly lowering it as Grace watched in stunned silence. As two warm hands eased the sodden garment from her shoulders, two burning emerald eyes ran over every inch of her. "Then we are going to warm you."

Seeming almost afraid to touch her, his hands barely grazed her flesh as they gently caught her pants where they lay low on her hips, his fingers teasing at the waistband as he eased them toward the closure, carefully unhooking the silver belt, it's delicate jingles sounding over the sound of the pounding water in the background. Grace could barely breathe as he unbuttoned and unzipped them, his hands brushing her flesh again as he grasped the soaking denim and tried to slide them from her as well.

The jeans were tight when dry, but wet they molded to her flesh, refusing to release Grace from their grasp. Oblivious to the growing puddle around her, Nuada dropped to his knees, his hands determined as they struggled to pull the jeans free. Finally working them loose, the powerful supernatural creature suddenly found himself in a very unique position, kneeling before the very cold and barely clad body of a young human woman he found quite desirable.

"You tempt me Erulissë." He whispered, his green eyes igniting with interest as they took in the lavender lace of the garment stretching from hip bone to hip bone, delicate scallops daring him to watch as her flesh trembled from the cold, the tiny golden dolphin dancing in her navel as her muscles tensed against the coolness of the air around her.

Time stood still as Nuada weighed the options before him. He had never possessed a human before, never allowed himself to blend with something so fragile, something so easily broken. The fingertip he reached to touch her with was a test, curiosity swimming within him at what his reaction might be to her raw flesh beneath his fingers. The blue flames that leapt to meet it surprised him, and his mind delighted in that touch. Grace was not entirely human, and Nuada knew he could possess this woman, could share himself with Grace without killing her if he was careful.

That fingertip suddenly became ten fingertips as his hands found their way against her flesh almost of their own accord, elegant fingers tracing their warmth up her thighs as his pale hands explored this strange feeling that was cold human flesh with hot blood running underneath. Blue flickers of heat met his every touch, the faintest bite of current teasing him to continue, telling him she wanted more.

The hot dampness of his mouth forced the very breath from her lungs as his tongue tasted her for the first time, the strange sweetness of her skin lingering in his mouth as he ran it ever so slowly across the hipbone closest to him, her hand finding it's way to his hair, burying itself in the shimmering curtain of gold satin as she silently begged him not to stop. The play of dim light flickering from that tiny dolphin tormented him, and he could hardly wait to pull it into his mouth, the odd taste of metal mingling with the strange salty sweet that was her flesh was like nothing else, and he loved it.

Slowly he worked his way up her body, the strange smell of tangerines and flowers intoxicating him as he touched her. Ten fingers, two lips and one tongue worked in unison to torture her, tracing their way from her hips to her lips, surprising her with every feathery stroke, every firm touch making her gasp, every faint graze making her burn. It seemed as if eternity passed before he was standing again, the smooth silk of his shirt begging her to remove it as it brushed against her bare skin, pushing the limits of her endurance as she fought against the wild urges threatening to consume her.

Startled grey eyes slammed against emerald jewels flaming with heat as Grace considered the man before her. Her mind was jumbled, her emotions raw from what she had endured that night, yet somehow it was all fading away from her, those eyes commanding her to put it all aside and concentrate on him instead.

Silently his body beckoned her to join him, and for a second she thought to resist, the strangeness of the moment threatening to overtake her, but Grace found herself unable to resist the desperate need to be comforted. Wet hair sent tiny drops of rain sliding down his shirt as her face came to rest against his chest in the dim light. Heavy lids blocked out the light surrounding her, as sight was replaced by sense. The sound of his heartbeat filled her ears, as the sensuous smells of leather and dark spices crawled up her nostrils and Grace felt like she could remain there forever.

"Erulissë . . ." the whispered voice interrupted, "I fear you will not need the remainder of your clothes to take a shower." His words returned her mind to the present, the warmth of his breath against her ear snapping her brain to attention, and he finished waking her by slowly running his tongue around the edge of it, gently capturing the sensitive lobe with his lips before ever so slowly releasing it again.

The subtle moan that escaped her tore across his mind, riveting his attention, daring Nuada to make her do it again. He found his own breath shortened as his hands began at her waist, their touch firm against her as they ever so slowly ran across her ribs, wrapping around her body and finally coming to rest on the closure of her bra.

Grace felt the goose bumps fly across her skin as he teased her, two burning trails wrapping around her where his hands had been, and she trembled with anticipation beneath his touch. As she felt the lace begin to loosen around her, something in the farthest depths of her mind suddenly woke, telling her what she was doing and she immediately put her hand against his chest.

"Nuada, stop." She managed to rasp out, her voice raw with desire as she called his name. "I don't want to regret this in the morning."

His eyes came down to meet hers, the green depths taking in the sight of her face, the flush of her cheeks, the shortness of her breath, the dampness of her skin that was no longer caused by the rain, every thing telling him that her body most certainly did not want him to stop. Those eyes slowly lowered, brushing over her skin as they traveled from burning grey eyes to watch the temptation of her tongue flowing over lips scorched dry by passion.

The wetness of his own tongue dampened them for her, his mouth coming to claim hers, his lips tasting her as he drank in every drop of this human woman who was tempting him. "I can bring you many things this night Erulissë, but regret would not be among them." He told her softly, that strange melodic voice full of passion after his mouth lifted from hers, his tongue soon finding a new place to spread it's dampness as his mouth found the hollow above her collarbone and ran up the exposed length of her neck. Long strands of golden hair shimmered in the soft light, licking at her flesh as easily as his tongue did, light touches against her chest and shoulders as he kissed her again and again.

Grace melted beneath his touch, blue flickers of desire now racing beneath her skin as they struggled to keep up. The gasp of her surprise was caught by his mouth as he quickly slid the lavender creation that was her bra away. Nuada's hand instantly replaced the damp lace, teasing her flesh with his fingers as the other pressed against the small of her back, forcing her against the hardness of his body, telling her she was not alone in her need. The heat that traced through her thighs from the pressure of that touch tore another moan from her, and Grace found herself desperate to feel his skin against hers, wanting to feel him burn beneath her touch the way she was burning beneath his, needing to feel the raw flesh that was Nuada beneath her fingers as well.

Desperately her hands went for the buttons of the thin black silk that separated them. Shaking from the cold and trembling with desire, she could not work them, frustrating herself as her fingers refused to release them. Feeling the anger of being denied even something so simple, the simmering blue flickers that already licked her flesh flared brighter, and with flaming fingers intent on her bidding, she ran her hand beneath the placket neatly burning every one from it's place as she reached to brush the silken garment from his shoulders.

Shocked by the intensity of the passion he had ignited in her, Nuada caught his breath as she pressed her bare flesh against his. Arching against the hand that still held her cupped within it, Grace stopped breathing as the one at the small of her back slid around her hips to delve lower against her, reaching for the lavender lace that kept her from him.

Nearly ravenous in her need, Grace's hungry lips left his in search of further pleasures, finding their way up the gentle smoothness of his neck to taste the strange shape of his pointed ear as she felt him tense against her. Satisfied with the response she received, she furthered her torment, raking her fingers down his sides hard enough to leave tiny red trails as they tore across his ribs in search of two hipbones and the treasure that lay beneath them. His arms crushed her against him as his own body began to burn hotter, his own desires flaming to meet her own.

Suddenly her mouth left his ear, determined to find it's way across the satiny skin of his deeply muscled chest and Nuada soon found himself trembling beneath the repeated strokes of hot wetness across his skin. His heart began to race when two small tanned hands slipped into the front of his pants, and when she followed them with her mouth, he thought it would stop beating completely. He instinctively placed his hand under her chin to gently redirect her, but she shocked him with her response.

As one hand slid across the firmness that throbbed beneath the front closure of his pants, she took the hand that meant to stop her and slowly brought each finger to her lips, drawing them deep within the hot wetness of her mouth, showing him how the touch of her mouth would feel against his body. Not relenting until she finally heard the softest of groans come from deep within him, Grace locked her burning grey eyes on his flaming green ones, her flushed cheeks and faint smile telling him what she wanted without saying a word.

His fingers dug into her flesh as he relented to her tormenting touch, firm and demanding as they ran beneath the last piece of lavender lace that covered her. "May I remove these Erulissë?" he whispered, his voice strained in the steam filled air, his heart racing as her hands raked up the inside of his thighs, tracing the creases of his groin before firmly grasping the closure of his pants as she prepared to remove them.

"You can do anything you want." Grace told him in a breathless whisper, her fingers already working the clasp of his belt, even as his hands stilled against hers.

Suddenly the beauty of that perfect porcelain face was placed directly in hers, so close she could see the faintest movement of his nose as he drew breath, see his heart beating in his temples as two emerald green eyes with fire burning in their depths locked on hers. His warm velvety lips hovering within a fraction of hers, his breath hot against hers as he spoke.

"Be very careful to say such things Erulissë . . . there is much I would like to do to you." He warned her, his voice roughened by need as he spoke the words, the finest film of sweat now touching his brow as he felt the flames of passion overtaking him. This was still a mortal woman standing before him, and Nuada fought to restrain himself less he harm her.

He leaned to brush his lips ever so faintly against hers, intending to tease her, allow her the chance to back away but Grace was having none of it. Taking both hands, Grace buried them in that long blond hair, grabbed the back of his head and forced it back down to hers, her mouth hungry as her lips covered his, drawing blood as she gently nipped him, kissing him relentlessly in the stillness of the steam filled room.

Nuada suddenly realized Grace was far beyond being teased at that point. The heat of desire pouring from her mind told him he had started something he was incapable of stopping even if he wanted to . . . and he most certainly did not want to. She was literally on fire from wanting him, her body burning as the blue flickers of passion consumed her, actually glowing in the darkness of the room.

His tongue filled her mouth as her hands returned to the waist of his pants, the flames of her fingers dispatching the button there as quickly as it had the ones on his shirt, as Grace released the rest of him, the part that she intended to fill the remainder of her as she eagerly slid herself against him.

Nuada was far beyond the point of turning back himself, and responded in kind by tearing the last scrap of lavender lace that kept her from him off, flinging the ruined garment across the room without a thought. With one fluid motion, his hands came round to lift her against him, pulling her trembling body up to meet his as her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, strong arms molding her bare flesh against his. He had her in the shower faster than she could think, the door slamming behind them just as he slammed her into the granite wall.

Grace had never allowed herself to be handled roughly before, but the hot water pounding against her combined with the strange sensation of slick granite behind her and the smoothness of his wet skin in front of her nearly drove Grace insane as she writhed against him. She could feel every muscle, every bone as he spread her beneath him, possessing her within the confines of those glass walls, the groan of pleasure that tore from her only making him want her more.

They ravaged each other forever, each one forcing the other toward the highest reaches of satisfaction within those glistening black walls, neither satisfied with less than complete possession of the other one. Grace found every inch of him with her fingers and her mouth, from the seductive smoothness of his stomach to the ribs that showed when he drew a deep breath to the breadth of his shoulders as she clung to them. She couldn't get enough of the taste of him, his very flesh begging her to take in the strangeness of it, so hot beneath her touch as it called to the lightening from under her skin.

Once the first cries of pleasure had torn from them both, Nuada lowered her to trembling legs, and he began to wash her. The firm strokes of his hands warmed the outside of her body the same way his strokes had warmed her from within, leaving every inch of her slick and smooth to the touch. Soon Nuada had touched every part of Grace, leaving her shaken and breathless against him.

Grace did not stand idle in his grasp, her hands and mouth returning his pleasures. Nuada allowed her to do with him as she pleased, and he soon found out there were a lot of things that pleased her. Finally, she made her way to his hair, running her hands through the heavy satin luxury of it, carefully working the shampoo and conditioner through the golden lengths as she seductively rubbed herself against him. It was one of the most unique sensations Nuada had ever experienced, the raw flesh of this warm human body pressed against him as her hands caressed his back, his neck, his face, his scalp. It was tantalizing, every soft stroke of her fingers across him teasing the desire within him, her eyes burning as she stared into his face, her touch so gentle and tender as she held him.

As rivers of hot water raced across his body, Nuada found every idea he held about human women washing away with it. He was amazed by Grace, the openness of her heart as she shared herself stunned him, and he was shocked to find he suddenly cared nothing for himself as she clung to him in the stillness.

Nuada's experiences with women had always been about his pleasure – the women had always been willing, some paid for, some not - but all meaning nothing to him, offering no more than the necessary release of desire. Holding Grace, Nuada found himself vulnerable for the first time in his life, suddenly wanting nothing more than to fulfill her every need, to hear her cry out with pleasure from his touch and beg him to do it again.

As some point, he shut the water off, opening the door to retrieve a huge towel to wrap her in.   
Her skin was pink and damp as his eyes ran over her body, flushed from the heat of the shower and his touch, and Nuada found himself completely enamored by this human woman. His lips claimed hers yet again, velvety soft, delicate and careful this time as they brushed against hers. The edge of his desire was softened, and he still worried of harming this fragile being. He should explore her more gently now . . . and he did.

Nuada's lips and tongue were torturous in their tireless efforts, slowly caressing every speck of her lips, then he deepened it, his tongue demanding entrance to the very depths of her mouth, possessing it completely as he pulled her tight against him. Kissing was not nearly enough, and he soon removed the towel that separated them. Gently, he pulled her bare flesh to meet his, molding her body to his in the warm dampness of the bathroom. His hands resumed their relentless exploration, wandering from her shoulder blades down the ridges of her spine to gentle flow over the softness of her hips down the warmth of her thighs until she moaned against him.

Scooping her slight frame into his arms, Nuada carefully took Grace to his bed, gently laying her in the soft luxury of the massive deep blue comforter that covered it. There were piles of pillows, and he nestled her against them, yearning to feel her warmth pressed against his flesh again. No other woman had ever laid in that bed with Nuada, and he felt contentment for the first time in decades as Grace snuggled close beside him.

As the first glimpses of the morning sun began to fling themselves against the heavy curtains that covered the windows, Nuada was lingering above her, ever so close to possessing her again. They had tormented each other relentlessly for some time now, and both were desperate to find release again. As he came to rest over her, his emerald green eyes suddenly clouded, and taking her face in his hands, Nuada searched her face intently.

"Erulissë . . ." he softly whispered, his eyes burning as they met hers, his very soul reaching out to her as he spoke, "please say my name. I need to know you want to be with me."

Grace's eyes widened in surprise at his words, shocked by his obvious thoughts that she would use him as a substitute for Haldir. Her frown answered before her voice did, her hands instantly coming up to hold his face as he stared down at her, gentle fingers drawing across his cheekbones as tiny blue flickers traced against his skin, reminding him even then how much she wanted him.

"I am well aware of who is holding me Nuada." She told him softly, her southern drawl sultry and seductive as it slowly ran over his name. "You would be impossible to forget." Nuada looked down at her, desperate to believe what Grace was telling him, forcing the doubt from his mind as he smiled at her softly. That smile disappeared as he captured her mouth with his again, taking her mind away to some far off place as he explored it, once again tasting the strange sweetness that was this human. Nuada drank in the very essence of her as he buried himself in the welcome softness of her flesh, captivated by the beautiful creature he held, their bodies moving together in a rhythm as old as time.

As he held her in the stillness, Grace didn't know if it was right or wrong, and did not care so long as she felt him beside her. He was cradling her body close to his, his face pressed against hers, his hair strewn over the pillow like streaks of sunlight against the dark blue background of a night sky. Nuada worshipped Grace with his every touch, his every movement intent on bringing her pleasure. And he brought her pleasure in every way imaginable, strumming her body like a fine instrument, wringing satisfaction from it until Grace had nothing left, finally leaving her to sleep in satisfaction.

When her eyes finally closed, Nuada passed his hand over her face and willed her to continue sleeping. It had been a very long night, and he was tired. Reaching to brush a hand over her cheek, he studied her for a moment, wondering if she would ever forgive him for all of this, then made himself close his eyes. He needed to sleep too, knowing he would need his strength when Niall came for her in a few hours.

***************************************

When Grace woke up, she slowly opened her eyes, remembering everything from the night before. She was in the most amazing bedroom she could ever have imagined, and while she'd never gone into his part of the flat they shared, she knew it was his. This room was sparse, modern and bare with low, sleek dark furniture that reeked of money and power. The gorgeous dark hardwood floors were here too, running right into the dark walls that Grace assumed were some shade of navy blue and glancing out the windows, she saw the darkness and knew night had fallen once more.

Grace felt mentally drained, her back was killing her and the headache was so bad it made her nauseous. Pushing against the most elaborate navy blue silk bed clothes she'd ever seen, she struggled to raise her head from the pillow Nuada had gently tucked against her but found her head felt like lead. The nightmare had returned while she slept, worse that it had ever been before, and her very brain felt as if it were on fire. Looking around uncertainly, she was startled when the back of a gentle hand brushed against her cheek.

"Hello Erulissë." Nuada's soft voice said, soothing and gentle in the complete stillness of the room. He was laying beside her, leaning his head into his hand as he was propped up on one elbow, very much like he had been that night on the rug in front of the fireplace. Nuada was pleased to see Grace awake again, he'd been waiting for her to wake for hours, amusing himself by tracing little patterns on her flesh with his fingers, delighting in the tiny blue flickers that chased his fingertips around and around as he caressed her.

Slowly his hand came to rest behind her head as he pulled her closer, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. It seemed that he intended to do more, but the knock at the door interrupted him. He looked at her for the longest time, his face filled with the strangest expression, then he reluctantly gave in to the pounding and went to the door. It was no surprise to find Eric and Sookie standing there.

Sookie had a very odd feeling about Grace all day, and she wanted physical proof that her cousin was ok. She'd been calling ever since her truck left Fangtasia but her cousin had never called back - obviously something was wrong. Eric had been dismissive of Sookie's concerns, but when his calls to Nuada went unanswered as well, he became concerned himself.

Nuada graciously invited them inside, providing no excuse as he instructed them to take a seat on the couch, while he excused himself. Dressed only in a pair of black jeans, Nuada returned to the bedroom to retrieve a shirt, finding that Grace had managed to sit up on the edge of the bed now. He came to stand in front of her, his hand reaching to tip her chin so he could plant the softest kiss on her mouth, his lips lingering against her as he tasted that strange sweetness yet again. He said nothing, just smiling at her softly as his fingers caressed her cheek. His reluctance was obvious as he retrieved the shirt, silently slipping it over his head and quietly leaving the room.

Dragging herself from the bed Grace was sore all over, from her backache and from the unbelievable lovemaking. Turning toward the bathroom door, she stopped and stared in amazement at the single coral rose laying on the bathroom vanity waiting for her. Making her way back to that amazing shower, she gently twirled the rose in her hand, smelling it gently as she found clothes neatly laid out and waiting for her. Her favorite bath items were already in the shower stall, even her toothbrush on the countertop in preparation for her waking up. She smiled softly to herself, then climbed in, letting the roaring hot water ease some of the ache from her tired limbs and she scrubbed every tanned inch of herself. Humming to herself, she made her way to the sink, towel drying her hair and brushing it out, then brushing her teeth and taking a final once over in the mirror before going to see where Nuada was.

Her bare feet didn't make a sound when she walked into the gigantic room that was the den. Nuada was sitting on one of the massive leather couches, Sookie and Eric on the facing one, everyone quietly talking as they waited for her to join them. Nuada's eyes found her instantly, shining brighter as she drew closer, actually glowing when she took her place beside him, and nearly bursting into flames as her hand found it's way into his, warm tanned fingers reminding him of her touch. He had a drink and two pain pills waiting for her, and Grace wondered how he knew her back and head hurt so bad.

Neither Grace or Nuada said anything to reveal how they spent the past twenty hours or so, but their satisfied expressions and intimate interaction with one another said it for them. Both Eric and Sookie were very pleased at the development, happy to see their friends so content in the other's company. They all sat and talked of nothing particular for the longest time, and when yet another knock came at the door, Nuada's frown told them he was not expecting company. Ever the gracious host, he slipped from the couch and answered it, the others continuing their conversation in his absence.

When Nuada stepped outside and closed the door behind him, Grace found herself wondering if something was wrong, and when he walked back inside and told her the visitor was for her, she felt her heart go numb. Obviously something was wrong – very wrong. "Who is it?" she asked curiously, knowing that she didn't know one soul who would call on her other than the two already sitting across from her. Nuada didn't answer, only looked at her with the deepest frown imaginable, his green eyes blazing in anger as he watched her rise from the couch.

Going to the door, Grace looked at him uncertainly, wondering what on earth was wrong, but still he said nothing. The expression on his face was the only thing that told her how much he disapproved of what was happening. Sookie and Eric were both very interested in what was happening by this time, and after Grace stepped outside and Nuada closed the door behind her, they both wondered who was on the other side of that door. Nuada remained silent, instantly going to the wet bar for a drink which he slammed back with a vicious glare.

On the other side of the door, Grace was staring in complete shock at the sight in front of her.   
She'd stepped outside the door not knowing what to expect from the man on the other side. He was not dressed in his suit, he was dressed in the clothing of a marchwarden, in the clothing of Haldir and his men, and Grace was instantly shocked to recognize Cairbre as the man standing in front of her. His expression was grim, and it became even more dire when he explained the reason for his visit.

Grace had glanced at the clock before going to the door and knew it was nearly midnight on Thanksgiving night. What on earth could he possible want with her? "What is it Cairbre?" She asked him, wiping her tired eyes with her hands, trying to make her painful mind focus.

"I come to beg your healing touch for one who cannot. There is one who lies dying in the elf lands. I beg you come with me and heal him."

Grace looked at the elf standing in the cold concrete corridor oddly. The day she left Rivendell, it wasn't exactly with expectations for going back, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she actually woke up happy for a change. She didn't want her very pleasant evening ruining with a visit to the damn elf realm!

"Who's hurt?" she demanded. "And why should I give a shit?"

Caribre frowned, his grey eyes dark with emotion as he took in her flushed face and bruised lips. She was the very reason Haldir's brother was wounded, and she did not even know it! "It is Haldir's brother," Cairbre answered her carefully, "his name is Rumil."

Grace's mind snapped out of its tired haze immediately at the mention of Haldir's name. "Haldir?" she asked, terrified that something was wrong with the elf she cared so deeply for. Then she caught his words – brother.

"Why should I care if something happened to his brother?" Grace asked furiously, self-consciously running her hands through her hair. Haldir never told her he had a brother, and after the way she spent last night, Haldir wasn't exactly who Grace thought she needed to be talking about right now.

Haldir was not the one who asked him to go to Grace that night. It was his second brother Orophin who'd approached Cairbre. Cairbre spent his weekends and holidays in the elf lands, returning to the Northern Wood every Friday evening when he left the office, remaining with the marchwardens he once fought beside until Monday morning rolled around. They'd been engaged in a wide variety of exercises that weekend, and there had been injuries. Cairbre had seen Haldir as he usually did, answering his polite inquires as to Grace and her condition the same as he had every weekend since she left Rivendell, and he'd remained at the arena to watch the powerful general's next session in the arena.

Haldir and Rumil had been sparring violently for hours, but Haldir seemed distracted, actually grazing Rumil with a blade more than once during their exchanges that night. Everyone sensed something terribly wrong with the marchwarden general, but he offered no explanation, finally excusing himself politely, and fading into the darkness. He barely spoke that night, and Cairbre knew something heavy was weighing on his mind. Once Haldir disappeared, Cairbre approached Rumil, and he explained. Haldir's blood bond with the human woman was working overtime. He'd sensed her anguish at healing the girl, felt her torment when she killed the vampire, and he'd known how tormented she was afterward but he was forbidden to go to her.

The exercises started again at daybreak, Haldir once again pairing with Rumil as they performed every type of violent physical maneuver on the other possible. Many of the other marchwardens were watching, amazed as always to see the two most elite of their group fling themselves through the air with wild abandon, always landing on their feet, skillfully placing bow and blade within millimeters of the other without rendering so much as a scratch on the other.

Unfortunately, Haldir's mind was very much elsewhere, and while his brother's heavy leather vest suffered a few harsh scrapes the night before, no one was prepared for the sight of Haldir burying the evil curved blade of his knife in Rumil's shoulder right to it's hilt. It was the worst mistake Haldir of Lorien had ever made, the direct result of his connection with Grace. As her mind cried in pleasure under Nuada's touch, his mind cried out with her, his mental anguish at the feeling of her belonging to someone else clouding his mind and his judgment. When Nuada slammed himself into Grace, Haldir slammed his knife into his brother, and he'd wounded him severely enough that it might very well take his life.

Rumil was being tended to by the healers in the Marchwarden House of Healing, although their ministrations had not been particularly successful. The blade belonging to his brother had obviously not been a poison one, yet Rumil was gravely ill and now lay very close to death. Orophin begged Cairbre to bring Grace to heal him. Haldir was too proud and too distraught to ask such a thing himself, but Orophin knew of his brother's relationship with the strange human with the healing aura. Surely she would not refuse him . . . would Cairbre please bring her?

Cairbre took a deep breath and leveled his gaze at Grace across that empty hallway. "Haldir would never ask you himself, but I beg you for his sake. If his brother passes, he will never recover."

She frowned terribly at the elf across from her. "Give me one good reason why I should do this." Grace asked, her voice hoarse although she had no idea why.

Cairbre stared back at her intently, his deep pewter eyes blazing as he spoke. "I ask you to do this for the elves. You owe a great debt to our kind. Your life was saved by the grace of Lord Elrond and the gift of blood bestowed on you by Haldir of Lorien. Do you not feel there is a debt to be repaid to those who have shown you such kindness?"

Grace stared at the elf who had barely acknowledged her since she'd been working in that office for the past month in complete disbelief, shocked by his words, instantly furious. "I might very well owe a debt to the elves Cairbre," she told him in a nasty tone, "but I'm sure it will get paid in full by my great-grandfather. Aren't you?"

Cairbre became incensed by her words, his eyes blazing angrily as he looked back at the arrogant human woman standing in front of him wearing the sacred marchwarden's pendant itself. "That debt is yours!" he told her angrily, his voice strained. "The fact that you were taken to Rivendell by Lord Elrond is not lost to me, but the one who actually saved your life is Haldir of Lorien. There is a debt to be paid, and it is most certainly due to him! If you doubt that, look only to the pendant laying around your neck!" His voice was raised by the time he finished, his eyes blazing at her, daring her to tell him no.

"Well I hate to tell you, but I haven't seen or heard from Haldir since I left that place. I don't feel like I have to go help him!" she told Cairbre angrily, her anger surprising even herself. She'd been positive she'd hear from Haldir after she left, and it had devastated her that she hadn't.

"He cannot help the situation he is in!" Cairbre told her in a firm tone. Grace cut him a burning look, crossing her arms in front of her to glare out into the darkness. It would not be right to deny a request for healing from any elf, and she would have done anything for Haldir because she loved him. That didn't mean she had to like it though.

Turning back to face Cairbre, Grace couldn't help but glare at the silver haired elf in front of her. That damn hair was irking the life out of her, making her want to run her fingers through Haldir's so bad she could almost taste it. She had finally found some happiness last night, why couldn't she just be left alone?

Finally she answered him. "Alright Cairbre. You take me to his brother, but you keep Haldir the hell away from me."

Cairbre nodded with a grim look, knowing he would regret this. "Go change Grace. I will be waiting for you." he told her, pacing the corridor impatiently, twisting his hands in front of him as she left the room.

Grace stalked back inside for some shoes and a sweatshirt, trying to ignore the three sets of eyes locked on her as she silently went for her bedroom. Sookie was right behind her. She'd been standing at the door listening with her ears and her mind, and wondered if Grace was really going to agree to go back to the elf realm with Cairbre, especially after everything she'd been through the past few days! She watched carefully as Grace got the Diet Dr. Pepper and popped it open before going for some heavier clothes.

"Are you really going back with him?" she asked, her eyes telling her cousin she absolutely should not be doing this.

"What am I supposed to do?" Grace whispered back violently, her face creased into the deepest frown she could manage. "Haldir saved my life! And obviously the elves intend to blackmail my ass for it!"

Sookie frowned right along with her cousin. It did kinda seem that way. "What if he doesn't bring you back?" she asked, obviously concerned. "What if they keep you there for weeks again, or what if they keep you there forever this time? And what about last night? You're going back to Haldir now?"

Grace's heart went cold at Sookie's words. She sure hoped Cairbre brought her back, and she didn't know what she thought about Haldir right now – she hadn't heard one word from him in two months and it hurt like hell – and last night had been one of the best damn nights of her life.

Without saying another word, Grace went to her bedroom and slid the heavy black sweatshirt over her head, and slipped her feet into her usual sandals. Silently, she returned to the kitchen, tossing the now empty drink can in the trash before stalking back into the den. Sookie was right behind her, desperately not wanting Grace to go, positive something terrible was going to come from this.

Grace didn't go to the couch, knowing if she sat back down beside Nuada she'd never get back up again. Instead she was standing at the door with her hand on the knob, assuring her cousin she'd see her later. Eric's eyes were glued to them, wondering what in hell was going on and where Grace was going, and Nuada looked so mad he was about to burst into flames. Grace was flickering herself, angry at what she was being asked to do, but knowing it was only right to go.

Returning the impromptu hug she got from Sookie, Grace finally let her eyes meet Nuada's blazing glare across that den. "If they don't bring me back, you better come get my ass." She told him firmly, her eyes raking over him as she quickly turned away to leave.

Closing the door behind her, Grace wanted to see Haldir with everything in her, then she absolutely did not. He promised her he would come to her anytime she called for him – wasn't it fair for that to work the other way around, too?


	18. A Debt to be Paid

Chapter 18 – A Debt To Be Paid

As Grace looked around, all she could see was the outline of massive trees against a dark night sky, the moon high among their branches as she hugged her arms against herself to ward off the chill of night air. "Where are we going?" She asked Cairbre in a hushed tone.

"This way," the marchwarden answered, leading her a short distance around the base of yet another gigantic tree to reveal the low wooden building well hidden within the folds of the heavy shrubs and bushes surrounding it.

Walking behind the elf, they circled the structure until finally a door was revealed. He silently opened it, stepping in before her, and waiting for her to follow. Grace hesitated, then finally entered and looked around. It was very simple and basic, not unlike the hunting cabin she'd visited with her father when she was a child, everything made of wood and lit with various lanterns hanging all around. Turning slightly, she could see a number of low beds placed around the room, and what appeared a solitary man lying on a bed in the far corner. She didn't see Haldir, but she knew he was close by, the heat from the blood in her veins telling her he was there somewhere. Silently, Grace prayed she could do this before she saw him.

Laying on the simple bed, the wounded elf was dressed only in a pair of leather pants. His eyes were closed, and as Grace stood running her eyes over him, there was no doubt they were brothers. He looked very much like Haldir - his hair was identical in color to Haldir's, braided the same exact way - only his skin was pale as death.

The obvious stab wound showed dark and red against the pale flesh of his shoulder, but it did not look particularly grave or angry and Grace found herself confused. It was clear that he was suffering terribly, yet that did not appear to be his problem.

Somewhere behind her a door opened, but Grace didn't turn to see who entered or left, her attention completely focused on the condition of the elf laying in front of her. "Cairbre, I was not expecting you." Haldir's tired voice began, then he saw Grace and froze.

Grace didn't know if she wanted to see Haldir or not, especially after the way she spent last night, but she couldn't help but respond to the sound of his voice. Slowly she turned in his direction, her big grey eyes taking in the breathtaking sight of Haldir of Lorien, only he wasn't breathtaking in the usual way.

Haldir looked awful, from the dark circles under his eyes to the pasty color of his skin. The strain of injuring his brother had obviously gotten to him because he looked like he needed almost as much help as the man on the bed did. Shocked by the unexpected sight of Grace, Haldir stood there in stunned silence, his deep blue eyes locked on her like she was a ghost.

Grace had wondered what she would feel if she ever saw him again, and what she felt was a strange mix of sympathy and anger accompanied by the blood in her veins threatening to boil just because he had entered the room. Incapable of speaking as this strange mix of emotions washed over her, she finally managed to whisper out her command. "Please leave." Her mind was racing, and she knew she could not help his brother if she was distracted by him.

Haldir didn't move, so the elf beside him silently stepped between them to break their concentration on one another. That elf was Glorfindel, the powerful golden warrior from Rivendell. He was Haldir's guest in the marchwarden camp, and he was also a great healer. The usual healing warden who tended this place was away, the lesser capable underlings who trained beneath him serving in his place until his return. It had been of little concern when the warden left, the typical scrapes and cuts being little trouble to treat, but Rumil's condition had overwhelmed their simple abilities, and Haldir had called for the most powerful healer he could request.

A well accomplished healer in his own right, Haldir was very adept at dealing with war wounds and such, but his powers paled in comparison to the healing powers of one of the elder elves such as Glorfindel or Lord Elrond. The wounded elf was his brother, and he wanted the very best care for him.

Glorfindel had responded to his desperate plea immediately, making the trip to the Golden Wood in record time, but even his healing touch had not been able to draw Rumil back from the darkness that threatened to swallow him. He was standing with the General he considered to be his friend, wondering what this strange little human woman could possibly offer that they could not.

It took Grace a few moments to collect herself after seeing Haldir, and she fought to even out her breathing, willing her heart to stop racing. Refusing to acknowledge him again, Grace returned her attentions to the bed that held the dying elf and stared down at him. Knowing what she needed to do, she closed her eyes and drew from that special place within her. Grace could feel herself changing as the healing aura responded to her call, and when she opened her eyes again the blue cast surrounded her as she reached out to lay her hands on the man. Her hands never met his flesh, stopped by the threatening glare of two evil eyes framed in a halo of flaming gold hair.

Glorfindel was the scariest thing Grace had ever seen, making Nuada look as friendly as a cuddly little teddy bear in comparison and those burning eyes locked on her made her tremble in spite of herself. Slowly Grace took her hands away, fearful he would kill her if she touched the man on the bed, and actually, he was considering it. Not only did Glorfindel not want Grace touching Rumil, he didn't want her anywhere near Haldir again either . . . he didn't want her in the elven realm period!

The warrior had lived a very long life, and during no part of it did he care for the fairies. The fact that Grace possessed fae essence was appalling to him at best – he found the sight of the little human fairy concoction across from him disgusting, and after hearing about her vampire / elf blood experience, he'd like nothing more than to help Grace find her way to that great light all fae found themselves drawn to. Raking his eyes over her slight human form wrapped in the strange blue glow, Glorfindel thought to one of his favorite nasty little habits, and how much he'd love to try it on her. He'd find tiny little sprites when no one was looking, grasping their teensy little wings and squashing them flat in his palm as he dangled them over the toadstool he just plucked them from, and Glorfindel wondered if Grace would squeal that way if he squashed her.

"I do not care for your kind." He told her firmly, his eyes locked on hers as he considered her. "We can take care of our own."

"Fine. Let him die." Grace told him flatly, crossing her arms over her chest and instantly extinguishing her flames. "I really don't give a shit."

The coldness in her eyes surprised Glorfindel, leaving no doubt in his mind she was telling the truth, while the sapphire flames that continued to burn within them told him how impressed she was with his comment.

"I do." Haldir's strained voice said softly from close behind her. "Grace, please . . . help my brother."

Grace heard Haldir's plea, but that big damn elf glaring at her from the other side of that bed absolutely terrified her. She was about to walk away when Haldir's hand found it's place on her shoulder. Haldir would never allow Glorfindel to touch her, much less harm her, and as her hand found its way to the pendant around her neck, Grace's attitude changed dramatically. Giving Glorfindel one of her most classic screw you glares, she turning back to the very ill man laying in front of her, completely dismissing the towering elf on the other side of the bed.

Irked to no end, Glorfindel raked his eyes over the little human woman, seeing the pendant clearly displayed around her neck and now firmly grasped in her hand. Grace was damn lucky it was there and Haldir was standing behind her, because if they hadn't been, her head wouldn't have been connected to that neck any longer.

Forcing herself to concentrate, Grace let the blue flickers run over her again, laying both of her hands on the elf. She could feel the sickness flowing through him, and while she didn't know what had taken hold of him, it was awful and reached far down inside him. Grace's healing aura was very strong, but she could not make it turn loose. She fought against the darkness violently for a few minutes, then finally drew her hands away, disgusted that she could not heal the man.

Her terrible frown terrified Haldir as he looked at her face, knowing she had not healed his brother. "Grace," his trembling voice called to her, "what is wrong?"

Grace ignored him, her focus intent on the man in the bed. Glorfindel was just as intent as he watched her. He knew there was something far worse than that knife wound wrong with Rumil too, but he couldn't quite grasp what it was. "That's not it." Grace finally said softly, staring at his shoulder. The elves looked at her oddly, but Glorfindel found himself agreeing. That wound wasn't it – that was not what was wrong with Rumil at all.

Raking burning black eyes over the man on the bed, Grace told Haldir what she wanted, and it shocked him. "Strip him." her firm voice commanded.

"Excuse me?" Haldir's shocked voice replied from somewhere behind her. His brother had been stabbed in the shoulder. What on earth would removing his pants have to do with anything?

"Do it." Glorfindel told him firmly, his own healing aura agreeing that there was another, larger problem here that was yet undiscovered. He'd only been there a few hours, long enough to carefully examine that shoulder wound and it was not severe enough to cause the distress he was in.

Looking to each other uncertainly, Haldir and Cairbre began to remove Rumil's pants, much to the delirious elf's dismay. "No!" he screeched at them, his weak voice desperate as he tried to cling to the last garment covering him. His eyes were open now, and he could clearly see that a female was present. No way were they taking his pants!

"Yes!" Haldir told him firmly. "I take them off, or I cut them off. You choose!" His eyes told his brother he wasn't kidding, but Rumil continued to cling to the waistband of his pants like his life depended on it. Hoping he would relent if he couldn't see her, Grace walked to the other side of the room then Glorfindel held Rumil down while Haldir and Cairbre wrestled the pants off him.

No sooner had the leather left his body, than three loud gasps were heard in the room, and Grace immediately went to stand by the bed again. Rumil's most integral parts were carefully covered with a portion of the bed linens, but that was of no concern. His leg was of every concern. On patrol several days earlier, Rumil had encountered a terrible poisonous spiny plant frequent in the area. He'd gotten three large spines firmly embedded in the calf of his left leg, and they were horribly infected.

Grace couldn't pull the poison out of him because the giant thorns were still imbedded in his flesh. As she stood there looking at the swollen red tendrils snaking their way up his leg, Grace knew there was no way she could heal him until whatever made those three holes in his leg came back out. The only thing she'd seen that compared to the way his leg looked was a snake bite on television, and this looked even worse.

The others were shocked at the sight themselves, particularly Haldir. He couldn't believe Rumil had been walking, much less sparring with him. Obviously his brother's impeded movements contributed to their accident, and he would be in tremendous trouble for not having those tended when this was all over.

Her grey eyes were full of concern as she looked down at Rumil, wondering what they were going to do now. Whatever went in that leg, was going to have to come back out again. That wasn't gonna be a problem, Grace soon discovered, watching Glorfindel return from the cabinets on the far side of the room with a peculiar thin bladed knife in his hand. "Hold him." he ordered firmly, and Grace just backed away, knowing what was about to happen.

The first horrible grunt of pain that met her ears was bad, but when it deteriorated in a full blown scream, she thought she'd scream with him, and rushed back to the bed. Clamping her hands around Rumil's face, she flamed bright against the lantern light, working as hard as she could to pull the pain out of him as fast as they could make him feel it. It was a struggle, but Rumil stopped yelling, only moaning softly as the three elves held him down and cut those three huge thorns out of the large muscle of his leg.

When the final one was free, Glorfindel looked much relieved, but immediately returned to the wound. There was a lot of infection in that leg, and he intended to get it out. Grabbing Rumil's leg firmly in his hands, the golden haired warrior worked the flesh, forcing the infection that tormented the gentle elf to loose itself and pour out of the openings there. It was exhausting, but by the time he lifted his hands, Rumil's leg was not nearly so angry or swollen.

Grace was still standing at Rumil's head, her eyes closed, her fingers still firmly twined around his head, willing the pain to release him. The others had been so intent on what they were doing, they hadn't paid her much attention, but they did now, stunned to see how relaxed Rumil seemed beneath her touch.

"Grace," Haldir called to her softly, "they are out."

Grace opened her eyes, bypassing his intent stare to take in the sight of Rumil's leg. It was laid open in three places, bleeding and awful, but free from the terrible plant shards that had tormented him. Rumil's eyes were open now, and he was staring up at Grace intently, wondering how the strange touch of her fingers could ease his pain so completely.

She never said a word to him, simply stepped away from his head so she could reach his leg. Rumil never took his eyes off her hands as Grace slowly and intently began to touch him. She started at the very top of his thigh where the highest reaches of the redness began, hearing the soft gasp that tore from him when her cool fingers first met his flesh. Grace ignored him, working her way slowly and carefully down his leg until she finally reached his toes. It took time, but when she finally took her hands away the leg was healed. Not even a scar remained, and every elf there was shocked, especially Glorfindel.

He'd heard what Grace did at the wading pool to Nuada, even heard Haldir tell of her healing his palm, but in all his years he'd never seen healing like that. Glorfindel's eyes locked on the strange little human again, seeing that those strange blue flickers were beginning to wane. "Many thanks little one." He told her in an odd voice. "I still do not like your kind, but your assistance here today was welcome."

Grace only stared at him coldly. She never expected to be called on to heal an elf, and she hoped if it ever happened again, his terrifying ass wasn't going to be there. "You're welcome." She told him sarcastically. "And I don't like you either."

The golden haired warrior replied by chuckling softly to himself as he began to walk away. "You are quite odd Pinilyaer. Your voice is so strange when you are speaking instead of crying out in pleasure." Cairbre blushed furiously, not needing to hear that bit of information and Grace's heart froze in her chest. She knew she'd heard that damn voice somewhere before!

Her eyes were blazing with anger against his words when Haldir stepped in front of Grace. He was intent on releasing his anger at what he'd felt and done because of it against her, only to find himself as disturbed by Glorfindel's words as she was. The memories of their love making in the hay loft tore through both of them, instantly making the shared blood between them boil with restrained desire as they faced each other.

Fighting to control himself, Haldir struggled against his heating blood, forcing himself to breath deeply of the cool night air. Suddenly his eyes narrowed, raking over every inch of Grace as she stood before him, knowing she was different somehow, the very scent of her altered since her time in Rivendell.

"Grace, what has happened to you?" Haldir asked her, suddenly more concerned for her safety than how she spent the past night.

Being so close to him was stifling her, and Grace struggled for enough breath to answer him. "I killed somebody." She finally whispered, and Haldir looked down at her with a shocked expression, wondering what she had done, yet knowing that was not reason for the change he was sensing in her.

Instantly he reached out to her with his mind. He could see her memories clearly, and knew within seconds what had happened in the warehouse two nights before. Strange creatures had been there, odd forms that changed their shape from human to wolf and back again. He recognized the imprint of Eric from the parking lot the night Grace was originally wounded, and he could also feel Nuada and Sookie. Listening to Grace's thoughts, he was surprised the vampire was not the one Grace had been so scared of when it was over, she had been scared of herself.

Frowning desperately, Haldir drew Grace into his arms, refusing to let her move as he studied her. No sooner did his hands touch her than she flashed blue again, instantly taking away his pain at harming his brother, easing his heart that he had done such a thing. As she traded away his pain, he pulled something away from her as well, and it only reinforced his concerns.

Locking his deep blue eyes onto her glowing grey ones, Haldir proceeded to flip through every inch of her mind like it was a good book. Not only did elves have the power to read a person's mind, they had the power to read all of it – whether the person wanted it read or not. When it became a forcible reading, it was considered a mind rape, and it was not something any elf did unless they really needed the information. Haldir felt this situation met the criteria close enough – Grace admitted killing someone, she was terrified of her own self, and there was something else very important being carefully hidden in her mind.

Healing the child and the death of the vampire didn't concern him. Grace had done very well, and like the others, he was proud of her. The nightmares she was suffering . . . they were of much more concern than the vampire . . . they were the source of this dramatic change he sensed coming over her.

Haldir was intent on that thought when he passed over the events of her life after she'd killed the vampire, suddenly knowing she had been in Nuada's arms only hours before. His anger instantly returned, his eyes changing from burning with compassion to flaming with anger in seconds as he stared down at her.

"Have you been with Nuada?" he demanded, his voice tearing over the words as pure fury tore through him. "Have you let that creature possess you? Answer me Grace!" he was nearly screaming, actually shaking her as blue eyes darkened by anger glared down at her .

Grace wouldn't say one word, completely terrified both by the way Haldir had hold of her, and the way he was looking down at her, that burning anger in his eyes telling her he'd like nothing more than to choke the very life out of her right there. Silence seemed like the best solution, because she was sure if she said yes, she'd be very lucky to get out of that little cabin unharmed before this was over.

Hearing his words, Glorfindel stepped closer, placing a calming hand on Haldir's shoulder to try and restrain him. "Control yourself Mellon nín ," Glorfindel told him quietly, "humans have no power to resist their charms."

Haldir let loose a string of elf speak in return that Grace was sure would have fried her brain had she understood it, hearing shocked gasps from both Cairbre and Glorfindel before he finished. Immediately, the three elves fell into the most intense discussion possible, Grace understanding none of the elven language, only hearing her name liberally sprinkled through it as they argued over something obviously very important concerning her.

During this entire time, Haldir still held Grace firmly in his grasp, and the longer he held her there, the more pissed off she got. Praying for patience, she began to slowly dissolve into anger as soft blue flickers of irritation traced over her in the lantern light.

"Let me go." She finally growled out, her voice low and even as she spoke.

Her words broke their conversation, and Grace found three sets of very intent elf eyes locked on her like she was the last bottle of TrueBlood in all of Fangtasia. "What did you say to me Pinilyaer?" Haldir asked, his hateful expression and narrowed grey eyes daring her to repeat that command to him again.

"I told you to get your damn hands off me." Grace repeated firmly, anger slowly beginning to overtake her at the way Haldir was holding her.

Grace was oblivious to the shock that was now coming over Glorfindel's face that his little human woman was trying to tell Haldir of Lorien what to do, but Haldir wasn't. He'd be damned to the orc pits if this little human woman was going to embarrass him in front of any more of his peers. He got his fill of that crap when she threw him across the balcony in front of Nuada, and only tightened his grip on Grace's shoulders.

Feeling his fingers digging into her flesh, Grace became completely enraged. Her black eyes glistened as he completely ignored her, the blue flickers tracing beneath her skin beginning to build and flame as he returning his attention to his elven companions and their conversation. Beside him Cairbre was watching Grace intently, sensing the growing fury within her, knowing it was about to spill over. He was in the process of trying to get Haldir's attention when Grace finally snapped.

Grace didn't even think about what she was doing, just let her anger overtake her body and she slapped the holy shit out of him. Haldir never thought about what he was doing either, and he didn't react to be slapped in the face very kindly. His response was automatic, simply giving into the training that instantly overtook him. With one quick motion he snatched Grace closer to him, not even allowing her a breath before the back of his hand caught her full across the face dropping her to the wooden floor a stone. Hearing the impact of her hand on his face, Glorfindel tried to grab Haldir, but it wasn't fast enough to stop him.

The three elves now stood in the silent Healing House staring at Grace's crumpled form on the floor. Haldir was shocked at his own actions, not quite believing what he had done as he saw Grace laying there, a small trickle of blood forming at the corner of her mouth. Beside his friend, Glorfindel shook his head against the sight before him. This was the very thing Lord Elrond had warned him about, the reason he requested the powerful golden warrior be there the morning Grace left. These two were toxic for one another, the forced blood bond between them altering their ability to think coherently when they were close to the other, and he worried what would happen should the two of them ever be turned loose on one another.

Grasping Haldir firmly in his grip, Glorfindel commanded Cairbre to get Grace up and away from there that instant. The lower elf immediately collected her slight form, disappearing in a second. In the stillness that was left behind, Haldir wrenched himself out of Glorfindel's grasp.

"Tell me what to do about Grace ever again, and I swear I will kill you." He growled out viciously, and for the first time in his life, Glorfindel honestly believed his friend was capable of ending his life.

Back in the human world, Cairbre was returning Grace to the safest place he knew to take her. The sun was up when he appeared on the front porch of the huge white farmhouse on Hummingbird Lane. The sound of his foot banging against the door brought Sookie running, and he'd barely gotten Grace to the couch before the furious human in his arms woke up, already flaring blue as she prepared herself to kill the man who just hit her.

Luckily, Sookie was there and made Grace realize she was no longer in the elven realm. Cairbre said nothing, Grace's expression telling him he'd be much better off if he was somewhere else. With no more than a polite nod, he disappeared with a pop, terrified of what Grace would do to him when she saw him again.

***************************************

The elevator doors slid open, revealing Grace's frozen form inside, carefully looking around before she stepped inside. The hallway was empty, and she felt a tiny sense of relief. If not for the hand firmly planted on her arm, she wouldn't have gotten out, but that hand was dragging her, forcing her to walk forward.

Glancing to the pretty blonde who was leaving bruises on her arm from holding on to her so tight, Grace knew if it wasn't for Sookie she wouldn't have returned to the office building at all. She would have continued to ignore the nine messages on her cell phone from Alcide, and she would have told Eric to go fly a kite and she would never have agreed to come to this damn meeting, knowing it was going to turn into something awful

Carefully looking inside the elaborate office she and Nuada were sharing, Grace had never been more relieved to see it was empty. Nuada was there somewhere, obviously. This meeting was to include him, but he wasn't right there, right then and Grace was thrilled. Making her way to the desk in the corner she was using, Sookie was instantly awestruck by the huge drawing of the magnificent house pinned to the wall. It was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen, and she just stood there and stared.

That picture was a colored rendering of what her new house was going to look like, and she had no idea. "Like it?" Grace asked carefully.

"Like it? I love it!" Sookie told her with wide eyes. "It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen!" Grace smiled softly to herself. It was a striking house, the plantation styling and graceful Georgian details enough to make any southern girl swoon. No one in their right mind wouldn't like it, but now for the hard part.

Fumbling with some paperwork on her desk she needed for the meeting, Grace fought to find a lie suitable to tell her cousin. Grace didn't lie – ever. It was her one rule, and it was one she did not break or even bend. If you always told the truth, you never had to worry about keeping your story straight. Now, she was not only going to lie, she was going to lie to the only person she could trust on this entire planet, and it was killing her.

"Our great-grandfather is building it." Grace told her smoothly, her voice carefully even as she looked at Sookie, wondering if her mind would give her secret away or if Nuada's promise to hide that part of her mind was a good one. "He asked me to help with the design."

Thankfully Sookie didn't catch on, just stood there and continued to smile. Sookie knew Grace had been working in the office with Nuada on some house plans, but she'd never given her any details. "Well, it's gorgeous. I know he'll love it." Her sentiment was completely sincere, and Grace suddenly had a wonderful idea.

"You know Sook, he asked me to help pick out the stuff to go inside it, but that's not really my thing – I just draw them, I don't decorate them! What if you help out with that part of it? I know our great-grandfather would be thrilled if you helped out too." Grace's heart was pounding in her chest, praying her cousin would say yes and she could extricate herself from this architectural hell she'd found herself trapped in soon.

"Oh, I'd never know how to do something like that!" Sookie told her firmly. "I just about had a nervous breakdown when they replaced my kitchen! I don't like spending money like that!"

"But it's not your money Sookie! Just think about it – you can spend as much as you want! He's loaded – just look around this place! It'll be a lot of fun." There was a hint of pure begging in Grace's voice as she spoke to her cousin, and Grace was willing to beg outright if that's what it took to make her agree.

"What will be a lot of fun?" The deep male voice asked from behind them.

"Eric! Stop sneaking up on me like that!" Sookie cooed up at the vampire, turning around to instantly find herself in his arms, his lips on hers in a passionate kiss within seconds. Grace kept herself carefully turned away from both of them. She didn't want to see anybody kissing right now, and she didn't want Eric to look at her either.

With her back still toward the vampire, Grace carefully let her next words tell Eric what she was up to. "Sookie was just admiring the house our great-grandfather is building, and I thought she might like to get involved – maybe help pick out the interior trims and things. Don't you think that's a great idea?" Her voice was careful, but that note hiding in there told Eric he better gush about that being the best idea he'd ever heard.

Actually, Eric did think it was a fantastic idea. How Grace thought up such a perfect lie to get Sookie to pick out the things for her own house was amazing to Eric, and he was that much more impressed with her creativity!

"Sookie! What a marvelous idea!" Eric nearly gushed at her. "You and Grace will have the best time working together, and I know Lord Niall would be very pleased if you were involved." Secretly Eric was as happy as he'd ever been. If Sookie picked out everything for the interior of the house, she had to love it when it was finished!

Sookie was looking at Eric uncertainly, but with Grace's encouraging words and Eric's beaming smile, she relented and agreed that she would be thrilled to work on the house. Spending someone else's money might prove to be a whole lot of fun, and the idea of decorating the house in that picture was just a little too tempting to pass up. Grace was so happy she felt her knees go weak, and Eric was as happy as a cat who just ate a canary when he glided back out of that office to the conference room "They're waiting on you Grace." He called back to her down the hall.

With Grace's excuse about the house being built for Lord Niall, Eric didn't have a good reason for being in that meeting and he knew it, but he was friends with Nuada and that would suffice for tonight. Slipping back to the conference room, Eric quickly informed Nuada and Alcide of Grace's little white lie so they would play along and casually took a spot over the corner. He could listen from there, carefully participate in the conversation if he felt he had to, but still manage to look unconcerned at the same time.

Grace held out in that office as long as she could before she finally picked up those blueprints and walked down to the conference room. Sookie was still close enough they were touching, knowing that was the only way Grace was going in that room, and she squeezed her arm when they reached the door. "You ready?" she asked sincerely, her eyes locked on Grace's face, knowing from the pure terror pouring from her mind her cousin most certainly wasn't. Grace didn't say anything, just took a deep breath and opened the door.

***************************************

Haldir's hand against her face and Cairbre's terrified departure were Grace's last contact with anything possessing pointed ears until the moment she walked into that conference room. While she was much more pissed off than physically harmed by Haldir's hand, her face left no doubt that someone had slapped the shit out of her and now everyone was fixing to see it.

Eric and Nuada didn't know what happened to Grace after she left the flat on Thanksgiving night. Sookie had kept Eric away from her house, and Nuada had simply disappeared. Nobody knew where he'd been, not even Eric. Maybe he'd been at the flat, but Grace hadn't set foot in the place since she returned from the Northern Wood. If he stayed there, he'd been alone.

Knowing she couldn't hide forever, Grace finally took a deep breath and walked inside. Sookie's hand was still on her arm for moral support as the two cousins presented a united front to the group of men at that table. Nuada's back was to her, his focus on the paperwork Cairbre just handed him. The former marchwarden's eyes flew to Grace's face just as Alcide's did, and both were stunned by her appearance, Cairbre stopping mid-sentence to stare at her.

Grace said nothing, her narrowed gaze and the defiant tilt of her chin daring the elf to open his mouth to her. His started expression drew the immediate attention of Nuada, and he glanced over his shoulder impatiently to see what the disruption was. As two glowing emerald green eyes took in the condition of her face, pure lighting flashed in their depths as Nuada strained to control the wild emotions instantly racing through him.

"Lord have mercy Grace, what the hell happened to your face?" Alcide asked, his voice somewhere between concern and disbelief at the marbled black and purple bruises crossing her jaw. Behind him, Eric's soft blue eyes had locked onto Grace too, and he was already crossing the room in her direction.

"I ran into an old friend." Grace answered sarcastically through her split and slightly swollen bottom lip as she began to spread out the blueprints on the conference table.

"Did it happen to be the back of his hand?" Eric demanded, as he reached to tilt Grace's face up with one finger, raking his eyes over her face. If there was anything on earth Eric Northman did not like, it was for a man to hit a woman, and his face was creased into the deepest frown imaginable.

"We can talk about this house, or you can watch me leave. Your choice." Grace told him firmly, her burning grey eyes telling Eric to shut up and sit down if he wanted any more of her help. He just stared right back at her, that vicious glare telling her he intended to get the full story behind those bruises, then he reluctantly went back to the corner and sat down.

Grace was very careful to turn her chair to face Alcide, refusing to even look in Nuada's direction through the entire meeting, knowing how mad he must be at the way her face looked. Grace was praying when this meeting was over, he didn't get up from that table and go straight to the Northern Wood himself and try to kill the beautiful marchwarden who had slapped her.

It was extremely tense in the room when the meeting began, but slowly everyone focused on the task at hand. Sookie sat in the chair next to Grace, listening intently to the ensuing conversation about wiring and plumbing locations as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, while Eric carefully kept abreast of things without making himself seem too interested. Nuada didn't say one word through the entire thing, his green eyes firmly locked on the bruised face of the woman sitting near the opposite end of the table from him, his anger growing by the second.

It had plenty of time to grow, since it was some two hours before Alcide was satisfied. Sookie got up to talk with Eric, as Alcide immediately came to stand beside Grace. He was very unhappy at the appearance of Grace's face himself, and as she began to collect her things from the table, he tried to talk to her. "That sure doesn't look good Grace . . . you sure you're alright?" he asked quietly, his expression very concerned as he looked over her face. He agreed with Eric. That looked like the imprint of a man's hand on her face.

Grace simply looked up at him with a very carefully guarded expression. "I'm fine Alcide." She told him firmly. "I hit him first."

His raised eyebrows told her he was only a little bit surprised by that, although he immediately found himself wondering after what he heard she did to that vampire if the man was still alive. "You didn't kill him did you?" he asked, only half kidding as his green eyes looked over her, still amazed at what the little human woman could do.

"Not yet," Grace answered with a strange note in her voice, "but I'll see him again at some point." That comment drew immediate attention from everyone in the room, Sookie turning to Grace with a huge frown. They'd already discussed that scenario, Sookie making Grace promise to never go near Haldir of Lorien again!

Alcide frowned too, but he knew Grace's personal life was none of his business and headed out the door. With the construction supervisor gone, everyone else was ready to leave too and Sookie returned to Grace's side, wanting to be sure her cousin was indeed alright before she left with Eric. They'd already discussed this scenario, and Sookie promised not to leave Grace alone with Nuada until they found out how he was going to react to seeing her bruised up face. He was staring at Grace intently, obviously expecting her to say something, and that very tense silence was beginning to fill the room yet again.

Thankfully, the moment was interrupted by Cairbre. He was bringing Grace a cup of tea, politely putting it directly in her hand as his own eyes carefully studied the condition of her face. "Drink this, it will help." He told her softly, slipping a piece of paper into her hand. Grace didn't say a word, instantly hiding the piece of paper as she took the mug from him. Watching the elf leave the room, Grace couldn't help the look of complete disdain that came over her face, her anger very obvious as she watched that silver hair pass through the open doorway.

Nuada was watching their interaction intently. He refused to read Grace's mind through the meeting, already overwhelmed by the pain and anger she was giving off, and his own guilt was on the verge of drowning him. The sight of Grace's bruised face tore at his very soul, and Nuada knew he should never have allowed her to walk out that door with Cairbre alone.

Seeing her now, he knew his own actions Thanksgiving night were only going to make this worse. No sooner was Grace gone, than Sookie and Eric left too. Disgusted by them all, he'd gotten drunk then popped himself to Los Angeles, spending the past several days between his home there and Crash Mansion. He'd only returned that morning, and hadn't even called Grace to be sure she returned from the elf realm safely.

Obviously, she made it back, but it wasn't safely and he felt like a complete ass. Nuada was positive Haldir was the one who hit her, and he knew once that information was verified, there was an excellent chance he was going to go completely insane. Grace probably wasn't going to want to share the details of her obviously unpleasant visit to the elf realm, but he was willing to wait . . . and if Grace wouldn't tell him what happened, he'd pry it out of Cairbre's dying body if he had to.

Desperate to talk to her, he watched Grace silently collecting her things. "Erulissë, would you allow me take you to dinner?" Nuada asked her smoothly, praying she would at least lift her eyes to meet his. "I feel sure you haven't eaten." He was being extremely polite, the gentle concern in his voice not telling her how he actually felt inside.

The sound of his voice was music to her ears, but Grace had enough common sense to know Nuada was extremely upset, and she kept her eyes trained on the table in front of her as she answered him. "I'm afraid I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request," Grace told him sarcastically, a slight hint of humor in her voice, ". . . means no."

She was actually kidding with Nuada, although she truly did not intend to go to dinner with him. Her face hurt to bad to chew, but after watching Pirates of the Caribbean with Sookie yesterday, she couldn't help but say that one more time. The two cousins had repeated the catchy phrase at least a hundred times since they heard it, and still thought it was hilarious. Nuada didn't find one thing funny about her comment, but in the far corner Sookie was about to laugh her ass off, burying her face in Eric's chest so she didn't laugh right in Nuada's face.

The two men honestly didn't get it – neither man was much on watching television – and that just made it funnier, reducing both girls into a complete fit of laughter before it was over. Hearing and seeing Grace laugh was actually wonderful for Nuada. She wasn't one to give herself to humor often, and he honestly couldn't remember ever hearing her laugh. Not even once.

Finding the faintest smile touching his mouth as he listened to the sound of their giggles, Nuada spoke to Grace again, careful to keep his voice in that low, soothing range Grace usually responded to. "Erulissë, would you please reconsider?" His emerald green eyes were purely glowing as he waited for her to answer. He'd been consumed by thoughts of Grace since he made love to her, wanting to hold her again and make her forget Haldir ever existed. Now he wanted to kiss those bruises on her face and run his tongue over that split lip to soothe it . . .

At the sound of his pleading voice, Grace's eyes finally came up to meet his intense emerald green gaze. Sitting there in those elegant black clothes, Nuada looked good enough to eat, but as her big grey eyes ran over him, it was quite obvious that Nuada had already been chewed on himself. The perfect bite mark shined against that perfect alabaster neck of his, and Grace knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Nuada had slept with another woman sometime after he'd been with her.

Instantly her laughter dissolved, the happy shine in her eyes going cold as the numbness of shock flowed over her heart and slowly flooded every inch of her until she couldn't even stand. Shaking, Grace sank back into her chair. She couldn't have been more stunned if Nuada had walked over and slapped her himself. Slowly her deep grey eyes clouded with emotion, her injured soul lost somewhere between pure hatred and the deepest disappointment she had ever known.

Silence so heavy you could feel it pressing against you filled that conference room, this being a classic OSM as Sookie so graciously called them – an "Oh Shit Moment" of monumental proportions, and neither Sookie or Eric knew what to do about it. Across the room Sookie's eyes locked onto Nuada, clearing seeing the same thing her cousin did. Sookie didn't open her mouth, her narrowed gaze and the burning thoughts tearing through her mind telling him what she thought about him without saying one word. Beside her Eric was stunned. He knew Nuada had promised he wasn't going there with Grace, although he obviously did. Surely his friend knew better than to treat the girl he was entrusted to care for by Lord Niall himself this way!

Instantly he crossed the room, grabbing Grace under the arms and effortlessly pulling her out of the chair. "We're leaving." He said firmly, his voice colder than the air outside. "Sookie, get her things." Sookie looked at Eric uncertainly, but his vicious glare told her he wasn't kidding and she went for the door, knowing Grace's purse was in the other office.

Eric was hauling Grace toward the door himself, his blue eyes glittering with anger as he stared down the man he considered to be his friend at the other end of that gleaming conference table. "I expected much better from you friend." He told him with a deep frown, then hauled Grace right on down the hall toward the elevator.

Sookie met them there, and without another word, Eric had them both inside the gleaming metal capsule, silently taking Grace away from Nuada and away from that place. Eric was already furious about those bruises on this little human woman's face, and Nuada's bite mark only added insult to injury. Grace wasn't really his business, but he had grown fond of her unique brand of humor, and somehow she had the same effect on him she seemed to have on every other man she got close to – he wanted to protect her, and he intended to do that very thing.

When the elevator doors opened on the bottom floor, Eric was surprised to see his path blocked by Cairbre. The elf leveled a vicious glare of his own toward the vampire before joining them inside, pressing the button to close the doors and keep them locked there. His cool grey eyes told Eric to back off as he stepped in front of Grace. "Listen to me Pinilyaer." He told her softly, waiting until Grace's tear filled eyes met his before he continued speaking. "No matter how upset you may be, it is most important that you keep the appointment on that piece of paper. We will protect you from them."

Grace looked at him strangely, not understanding what the elf was trying to tell her. "I don't think I need protecting from Haldir anymore." She told him flatly, her voice broken and strange sounding in the hollowness of the elevator.

"It is not Haldir I speak of." Cairbre answered her softly. "It is Lord Niall and Nuada."

The elf didn't say another word, just looked at Grace intently, his very mind commanding her to heed his words. With one last glance over Eric and Sookie, he hit the elevator buttons again, silently disappearing through the opening doors into the darkness of the empty office building. Upstairs, his name was being screamed down the empty corridor of the fifth floor offices, although he didn't intend to answer it.

"Cairbre!" Nuada's harsh voice ground out, echoing through the empty offices. "Marchwarden! Come speak with me now!" He had just stepped into the expanse of his own office, impatiently waiting for his command to be obeyed, when a deep and angry voice cut through the stillness behind him.

"I believe this marchwarden is much better suited to answer your questions." Haldir's voice sounded, colder than death itself as the General of the Marchwardens stepped out of the shadows, intent on personally answering that request.


	19. Acrimonious Admissions

Chapter 19 – Acrimonious Admissions

Just as Eric began to lead Grace from the elevator the pain hit her. It was instantaneous and it was devastating, that tearing feeling from Rivendell was back, returning the chainsaw to her brain as the spirit of her aura and her blood went to war. The pain bled from her mind to Sookie, and neither cousin could do more than cling to the other for a moment. Their condition terrified Eric, and the vampire wondered what he should do for them now.

"Haldir's here!" Grace managed to gasp out, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt Haldir of Lorien was in that building, horrified to know that the two men she cared for most would most likely kill one another before this night ended. As Grace fumbled for the buttons, Eric tried to stop her, knowing nothing good would ever come from this but feeling the elevator begin to rise as the faintest of blue flickers began to take over Grace.

In the huge private office on the fifth floor, Nuada considered the sight in front of him with more than a little surprise. After his encounter with Lord Elrond, Nuada did not think Haldir would involve himself with matters of Grace this way.

"Sen tîr!" Haldir demanded. "Are the things in her dreams true?"

Haldir's harsh voice and intimidating appearance had Nuada's attention riveted from the second he stepped from the shadows and walked across that extremely plush carpet. He was carefully considering the best way to handle the obviously irate marchwarden. Haldir was straight off the practice fields and dressed in full battle attire, and there was no doubt those knives hanging on that heavy leather belt were not there for show. Nuada on the other hand, was dressed in his human clothing, and he had no weapons at his disposal whatsoever.

As angry as he was about Grace's face, Nuada forced himself to remain perfectly calm, his voice low and even as he spoke to Haldir. The furious marchwarden in front of him was struggling to remain calm himself. The thought of the creature on the other side of that massive wood desk holding Grace made him blanch, but there were more important things to be discussed here.

Slowly and carefully Nuada began to speak to Haldir. He had gone to explain all of this to the marchwarden before, but Lord Elrond had turned him away. His plea to the Elf Lord for friendship that night had been a sincere one. Beseeching Haldir to listen, Nuada carefully explained the nightmares Grace was suffering. She was being bestowed a great gift by her great-grandfather, the gift of an extended life by way of her grandfather's essence. No harm was coming to the girl, quite to the contrary, she would live for a very long time once the transfer was complete.

Haldir listened to Nuada carefully, his deep blue eyes trained on the dangerous creature in front of him. He had sworn to protect Grace at all costs – that pendant around her neck confirmed it - and he intended to do that very thing. He was not impressed by the ridiculous mental and physical suffering that essence was bringing to her, but he had an ulterior motive in this.

Haldir's face was blank as he listened to Nuada, his ears intently taking in every word, carefully weighing their meaning. This was the same news Lord Elrond had shared with him that night they spoke in his office of the Northern Wood. – this was the hidden gift in his words Haldir had referred to. Elves did not consort with mortals because of their short life spans, but if Grace was bestowed the gift of long life, there was absolutely no reason they couldn't be together!

Once Nuada finished talking, he placed his hand over his heart and nodded respectfully to Haldir. They were united in their desire to keep Grace safe and happy. Nuada would never allow harm to come to the girl, but he was bound by the word of Lord Niall. There was little he could do to stop the Fairy Lord. His apology for the mental agony it was causing to Grace was the only relief he could give. Nuada wanted no fight with Haldir . . . not this night anyway.

As two eyes the same deep blue as a perfect ocean swell raked over two emerald green ones, the sound of an elevator door opening came echoing down the hall. Knowing Grace was about to walk down that hall, Haldir nodded his agreement to the creature's words across the desk. Lord Elrond had been wrong that night he came to see Haldir in the Northern Wood. Agreements could be made, and they had been.

Stepping to the center of the room, Haldir turned to stare at Nuada one last time. They would save their fight for another day. Grace was more important right now and as much as he desperately wanted to see her, that was neither the time nor the place.

"The next time I hear Grace cry out in pleasure, it better be because she is beneath me." Haldir warned viciously, then he was gone.

When Eric led the two cousins down that hall, the silence was deafening. He had no idea what he was going to find in the office, and hoped it would not be a dead body. They were all equally shocked when they stepped inside and found Nuada calmly sitting behind his desk intently looking over some papers in his hand. His expression was completely blank, as devoid of emotion as Eric's was most of the time, but his eyes told a different story. They were on fire from Haldir's lingering words, but it was of no consequence now. Haldir was gone.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise," he told them politely, "I thought you had all gone for the evening." Those burning green eyes were now locked firmly on Grace. Nuada knew full well she was aware Haldir had just been in that office, and he was right. Her brain had instantly eased when he left, but that odd woodsy scent that screamed Haldir's name to her senses still hung heavy on the air. "Have you reconsidered my dinner invitation?" he asked Grace pointedly.

Grace was looking around the office wondering what the hell just happened, shocked that nothing was broken or even out of place in the entire room. Something HAD to happen between them! After all, they were little more than two immortal walking egos who didn't really like each other that much in the first place! Eric was doing the same thing, knowing something very important just happened in that room, and wondering if Nuada would tell him about it later.

"Where's he at?" Sookie demanded. "We know Haldir was just here. What did he want?" She wasn't nearly so discreet as Eric or Grace – Sookie wanted answers – and her hands were right on those hips as she stared at Nuada waiting for him to provide them.

The slightest frown touched his face, but Nuada remained perfectly composed as he laid down the paper in his hand. "Haldir came by to offer his apologies for striking Grace. He was most apologetic for their misunderstanding, and was not sure that she would be receptive to his company." Nuada's voice twisted that word company like it was about to choke him, but that was the only sign he gave of how much it irked him to say those words. It was another lie, but again, it was a good one and Eric and Sookie actually looked relieved. Maybe he was telling the truth.

Grace wasn't relieved, and she didn't believe he was telling the truth for one second. Her glare told him so. He met it with a carefully controlled look of his own, his glistening green eyes carefully taking in every detail of her bruised face now that she was finally facing him front on. It was driving him crazy to see her that way, and he was struggling to contain himself, torn somewhere between going over there and dragging Grace into his arms and popping himself to the Northern Wood to kill Haldir for making her look that way.

Deciding that his affections for Grace were much more important than his disdain for Haldir, Nuada focused on the woman in front of him. "It would appear that is not the only misunderstanding that has taken place over these past several days." He told her carefully. "There are explanations for things that have yet to be shared." His words were daring Grace to let him explain that damn bite mark on his neck, and that was one dare she didn't necessarily feel like taking.

One very disgusted Hmmp! Was all he got from Grace, but Sookie was game for an explanation, and so was Eric. He actually went and folded that tall lean blonde haired vampire body right into one of those big plushy leather chairs in front of Nuada's desk waiting for it. "We're listening." He told Nuada intently, that soft blue gaze firmly locked on his friend, telling him it had better be a damn good one.

Nuada frowned at the vampire in return. He didn't mind talking to Grace, but he didn't really intend to talk to her family and friends too! His eyes went to Grace, wondering if she actually intended to listen to the explanation, or if it was just for Eric and Sookie's benefit. Grace was staring at the floor like that pattern in the carpet was the most intriguing thing she'd ever seen before, and Sookie turned to her with a frown. "You gonna listen?" she prompted. Sookie didn't mind helping Nuada and her cousin one bit, but she wanted to get home sometime tonight and have a little private time with Eric – they needed to hurry the hell up!

Sookie took a seat in another of the huge leather chairs, hoping it would convince Grace to do the same, but it didn't. She decided that standing over by the door was much better right then, feeling that no matter what came out of his mouth her life was going to hell in a handbasket regardless. Nuada silently got up from behind the desk and came to stand in front of her, Eric and Sookie watching in amazement as the light blue flickers started to run under her skin as soon as he got close to her.

Grace couldn't help herself. With Haldir gone, she felt as connected to Nuada as if they were conjoined twins. Her aura was on fire now that she'd slept with him and he was standing so close to her he was irrisistable. Carefully Nuada looked to Grace, pleased to see that she was already flaming at the very sight of him. "Hello Erulissë." He told her softly, his deep green eyes locking on her huge grey ones.

Grace didn't say one word, just slid her eyes off Nuada to the floor. She wanted to choke him stiff for that damn bite mark that was right in her face now. The air got tense enough to cut with a knife as the silence stretched between them, and Eric finally stood to leave. Obviously Nuada did not intend to talk to Grace in front of them, so they'd have to fight this out on their own. Sookie agreed, and came to give Grace a huge hug.

"Don't you worry," Sookie assured her, and patted her on the arm, "and don't be too hard on Nuada. Take care of yourself tonight, and I'll call you tomorrow." Grace looked at her cousin uncertainly, but knew she was gonna have to listen to Nuada at some point. May as well go ahead and get it over with.

Nuada saw the couple to the elevator then returned to the office where Grace had reluctantly sat down in a chair. He pulled the door closed behind him, and when Grace heard it snap shut she suddenly felt like she just got locked in a coffin. Coming around her chair, Nuada slipped into the one opposite it, watching her carefully. Grace was obviously upset, and still flickering in the dim light. He had to be very careful of her if he didn't want her to start throwing things at him again.

"Can I get you anything Erulissë?" He asked politely. Grace simply shook her head no and stared at the floor. "Please reconsider. I am sure you have not eaten anything in some time, and I know you must need some pain medicine for your jaw." His voice was gentle and kind, and Grace wished she could believe his concerns were sincere. She didn't, and simply sat there and studied the pattern on the rug some more.

"Erulissë, please look at me." He told her softly, wanting her to actually listen to him if he was going to tell her what happened.

Reluctantly, Grace lifted her grey eyes to meet his green ones. They were shining with unshed tears, painful reminders that he had not been there for her when she returned from the elven realm, and that he'd obviously betrayed her while she was gone. Running her eyes over him, Grace saw that Nuada looked just as fantastic as he ever had, dressed very simply and elegantly in a pair of black dress pants and a black button up shirt like he always was. In combination with his golden hair, green eyes and alabaster skin he looked like a damn greek god and Grace could feel herself getting hot in places she shouldn't have just from the sight of him.

He was leaning forward, intently focused on her, and it was driving her nearly insane. "Talk or I'm gone." She told him flatly, her eyes intentionally cold as they studied every perfectly visible tooth mark against that beautiful neck of his.

With one hand on his temple for the headache he was getting, Nuada began to explain in that low, soothing voice he used on Grace when she was pissed off. He was very, very sorry he wasn't there when she got back, but he'd gone to Los Angeles. It was the wrong thing to do, and going to Crash Mansion was absolutely the wrong thing to do. There was a woman there he'd had relations with during the past – she hugged him and tried to kiss him as well – when he refused her advances, she got angry and bit him. End of story.

Grace sat in that plush expensive leather chair and listened to Nuada talk, wishing more than anything those alarm bells in the back of her mind that were right over the "He's lying!" signs weren't going off like a tornado siren. Unfortunately they were, and she was hard pressed to ignore them. While Grace didn't doubt Nuada went to Los Angeles and Crash Mansion, after that it got a little fuzzy on the believability part.

Poor, poor Nuada. He sat there waiting for the kiss and make up part, but it didn't come. Grace simply stared at him quietly, then got up and left. She might be a lot of things, even a wee bit slow at times, but she did not have "dumb ass" written across her forehead, and Nuada should have given her a little more credit. With her purse still in her hands, Grace made her way to the elevator and her truck, reluctantly returning to the flat she'd been away from for the past four days. It was hard to walk through the door, but she managed just fine.

***************************************

The strange red flower laying on Grace's desk was supposed to tell her how sorry Haldir was for everything that happened between them. It didn't. Grace found it only stoked the simmering fury she had fought to contain since Thanksgiving night, and if Haldir had been there, she'd probably have made him eat the damn thing. It was Friday and she had a very important appointment today, compliments of that little scrap of paper Cairbre passed to her during Monday's joyful meeting and she couldn't say she was looking forward to it.

Ignoring the flower, Grace silently sat at the desk, docking her laptop and forcing herself to concentrate on Eric's house plans. If Alcide Herveaux called her one more time, there was an excellent change Grace was gonna hunt him down and shove that damn cell phone right up his big hairy werewolf ass! Her foul attitude was nearly palpable and no sooner did she sit in the chair than the Ipod earphones were in her ears with the music up loud enough for Nuada to sing along and he was clear across the room. Obviously, she did not intent to talk to him today, not that it was a surprise since she hadn't really spoken to him since Monday night.

As her fingers flew over the calculator and computer keyboard, her mind wandered, and Grace didn't even realize she'd taken her paperclips and made them into little patterns on her desk. One was a perfect bite mark, and the other was an exact replica of Haldir's leaf shaped brooch. When Cairbre showed up with another cup of that strange herbal tea and slid one over slightly, correcting her pattern, it was enough to make Grace want to strangle him where he stood. He gave no reaction to her venomous glare, refusing to be drawn into an altercation with her, but it warned him to steer clear of her and that was information he was going to need later that night.

When five o'clock rolled around, she'd already looked at her watch six times, and Nuada knew that because his eyes hadn't left her all day. He absolutely had to make Grace talk to him or he was going to lose his mind. Just looking at her across the room made him get tight in his groin, and if he didn't get to hold that strange sweet warm little human body against his soon, he was going to snap. That fading bite mark on his neck was turning out to be one of the biggest mistakes of his very long life. He honestly hadn't slept with another woman since he'd been with her – Oh he tried to – he just couldn't do it, and when he tried to walk away from Serena after calling her Grace again in that private room in the back of Crash Mansion she bit the fuck out of him in retaliation. Technically, he hadn't lied to Grace. He just needed her to believe his story now.

Unfortunately for Nuada, the next man with pointed ears Grace sat down to talk with was Lord Elrond when she met him at Les Deux Poissons right on time that evening. It was a very impressive restaurant, the same one in fact where Sookie first met his brother, Lord Niall and Grace felt very uncomfortable there. Walking behind the skinny hostess teetering on the sky high heels, Grace thought to herself how uncomfortable she must be too because to Grace, that just seemed like self inflicted pain for no good reason.

Politely thanking her, Grace allowed Lord Elrond to pull her chair out for her, waiting to see what he would say about her appearance. When she was met with nothing but silence, she slowly lifted her eyes to her great-grandfather's brother only to find his face devastated, his eyes glistening with moisture at the looks of her. It broke his heart to see her face bruised that way, even though they looked much better now, and he was already quite aware of how they got there. Slowly, Grace turned to hug him, wanting him to know she appreciated everything he'd done for her.

Elrond hugged her back, reaching to touch her face ever so gently. "Grace my dear child," he spoke softly, "look what Haldir has done to you."

Her eyes filled with tears at the mention of his name, but Grace refused to let them fall. She straightened herself with a determined air, "I'll be fine," she told him firmly, sliding into her chair.

Elrond frowned back at her, knowing she was upset about much more than that, but said nothing other than ordering their food when the waitress returned. He was dressed the same as he had been the day he surprised Grace at her house, the dark business suit cut to perfection, softly shining under the dimmed lights of the restaurant. His concern for her was obvious, and he'd been anxious to speak with her after Cairbre relayed the events of the past few days to him.

"Grace, what can I do to comfort you?" He asked her sincerely once they were alone again. "You do not look well."

Grace stared at the compassionate brother of her great-grandfather, lost somewhere between respect and resentment for his assistance in saving her life and involving her in this strange existence that had become her life. "I have no idea." Grace answered honestly, her voice numb from the pain of Haldir hitting her and Nuada's betrayal.

Lord Elrond frowned terribly at her words, knowing Grace was both disappointed and angry for the life she was now forced to live. "Surely you have questions my child. Perhaps if I answer them, you can find some peace." He told her softly, hoping he could bring some comfort to the tormented soul sitting across the table across from him.

This was a very difficult situation for Lord Elrond. He was a healer, not only of physical wounds but of mental ones, and if any creature ever needed their soul to be healed it was Grace. Elrond was already suffering under the knowledge of what Haldir was risking after being forced to share his blood with her, and her torment was only adding to his grief. As Grace looked at him uncertainly, the frown on her face and the tears in her eyes told him she didn't really believe anything anyone told her was going to bring any peace to her tortured soul, and he wasn't sure that she was wrong.

"Alright," Grace said softly, "please tell me about Haldir, and the situation he is in." She nearly choked as she repeated Cairbre's words, knowing they held some secret meaning she hadn't been enlightened to yet, still devastated by the fact her beloved elf had hit her.

Elrond took a deep breath, then slowly and carefully explained all about elves to Grace. He told her about their long lives, about the way they passed on to the undying lands when they chose, about the things that could and could not harm them. Finally he explained what happened when an elf decided to bind themselves to a mortal, and it did not turn out well for the elf. They would either die of a broken heart once the mortal died, or be left to wander heartbroken for thousands of years, either option sounding like the least desirable outcome imaginable.

When he finished speaking, the tears were slowly running down Grace's face, dripping off the edge of her bruised jaw to land in tiny little circles on the perfect white linen tablecloth. The restaurant was dimly lit, and Grace was glad the soft candlelight would hide her tears from the people eating around them. "Did you tell Haldir not seeing me again was the right thing to do?" she whispered, suddenly knowing why she had not heard from him since coming home from Rivendell.

"I did." He told her softly. "To preserve your life and his."

Grace continued to stare at the table, intently studying the china pattern for a moment as pure sobs of desperation threatened to take her, but she refused to allow them. Suddenly Grace considered the other elf in her life. If Haldir could be harmed by involving himself in a relationship with her, what was different about Nuada?

Drawing a shattered breath, Grace met Elrond's gaze again, deep grey eyes meeting deep grey eyes, Grace's glowing as anger and disappointment competing within them. "How are one elf's feelings any different than another one's?" Her strained voice asked, knowing if what Elrond said was true, she should never be with either one of the stunningly beautiful men who had become part of her life!

Elrond was surprised at her directness, not expecting such a question from her. "You refer to Nuada and Haldir, do you not?" he countered.

"I do." Her strained voice answered. "Am I just supposed to be alone for the rest of my life?" Grace couldn't hide the pain in her voice, and she was biting out the words by the time she was finished. If Haldir was hiding from her in the elf realm because she was mortal, then obviously Nuada wasn't gonna be hanging out for long either, which probably explained that bite mark on his neck! He wasn't intending on getting too involved with Grace before he moved on to greener and less mortal pastures.

Elrond shook his head, "You do not understand Grace."

"Then make me understand." She demanded loudly, actually drawing the attention of several other tables, her eyes on fire as she stared across the table. "Make me understand why I am going to end up miserable and alone."

Lord Elrond was devastated by her words. The last thing either he or his brother desired for Grace was misery or loneliness. More than that, he did not want her to hate the life she was now living.

"Grace, things are not so simple as they appear. And even if you were not a mortal, you should never be with Haldir! He brings out the very worst in you, and you in him. The two of you would kill one another and the world would be a less beautiful place when you did."

Sitting there in silence as the food was placed in front of them, Grace considered his words. There were times she'd wanted to hurt Haldir, but she wanted to hurt Nuada just as often - she actually wanted to kill him in the kitchen that night, and she'd been seriously considering it since Monday night! How were the two elves any different?

"Well what makes Nuada different?" Grace asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm in spite of her struggle to remain civil.

Elrond frowned at her words, wondering exactly what she wanted to know about the creature who was her guardian, and how much he could safely tell her. "What of him Grace? He is your guardian. It is that simple."

"It is not that simple!" she ground out, trying desperately to keep her voice low. "If Haldir should never see me again, then Nuada should never see me again either! Why can Nuada stay with me here in this world and Haldir can't?"

Grace sincerely did not want to know the answer to that question, and if she'd known how bad the answer was going to affect her, she wouldn't have asked it. Her shattered heart was still stinging with fury from that bite on his neck, and she was determined to stay mad at the gorgeous man who tormented her dreams. She had no idea that question was going to do a better job of it that she ever imagined.

Meeting her blazing stare across the table, Elrond politely laid his fork to the side. This conversation was never going to go as he had hoped. His next words were going to devastate the fragile girl across from him even further, yet she wanted to know and he would not deny her.

When Elrond's voice came across the table again, it was that low soothing voice the elves always used when they were delivering bad news and didn't want the recipient to flip out . . . it didn't really work.

"My brother is a very determined creature Grace, and there are very few things that he wants and does not get. You and Sookie are very precious to him, and while you may resent it, he intends to have both of you looked after for the rest of your lives. Your situation is different because your gifts are different, but know that Nuada is and always will be your guardian. As to what his compensation for that is, I do not know specifics, but rest assured he is being paid very handsomely in return for satisfying your needs."

Grace appeared calm as she stared at that bright white tablecloth while his words washed over her. In actuality, she was anything but calm. Grace was simply frozen by the torrent of emotions that threatened to overtake her, as she listened, her heart growing heavier with each word. By the time Elrond finished that last sentence, Grace was completely numb, the words "paid very handsomely in return for satisfying your needs" echoing around and around in her head.

Obviously her face was reflecting her feelings, because Elrond was watching her with growing concern across the table. "Grace? Grace, please say something to me. Tell me of your feelings." He was staring at her, his eyes locked on hers as they slowly filled with tears and she began to shake.

Clamping her hands over her mouth Grace struggled not to scream or throw up as she suddenly realized she was no better than a bought and paid for whore – Nuada had certainly satisfied her needs, but she didn't know he got paid for it.

Sitting there, Grace struggled not to lose control. Her heart was close to beating out of her chest, her hands trembling as she clung to Haldir's pendant for strength. Elrond's mouth was clamped in a thin line as he watched her and now she knew why Lord Elrond had been so concerned about her, why he had warned her to be careful. Shaking violently, she slid out of the chair so suddenly she nearly turned it over and Elrond came to his feet. "Grace . . . please listen to me." He begged her, but Grace had no intentions of listening.

She had her hand up, willing him to stop talking as she grabbed for her purse. His hard hand on her arm stopped her before she could leave, forcing her to return her shocked and shaking form to the chair across from him. "Breathe child." He told her forcefully. "Breathe and calm yourself so we can finish this discussion."

Fighting for air, Grace stared at the tablecloth once more as the powerful elf lord in front of her began to explain. "Grace, listen to me very carefully." He told her. His eyes were intent on her face, and he was telling her with his mind that she needed to listen to his words very carefully. "There are much more important things right now than what male you spend your time with. You need to concern yourself with mastering your gifts, and keeping control of your emotions. The time will come when you are going to need that control."

Across from him, Grace already needed it because wild blue flickers were beginning to trace over her because she was incapable of controlling the wild emotions tearing through her. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what the elf lord was telling her. "How could my great-grandfather do this to me?" She whispered, her tears choking her as her hands struggled to stifle her sobs. "Pay Nuada to use me."

Across the table, Elrond was completely devastated by the desperation in the voice coming at him, and the words they formed. He could still hear Grace's tortured cries from the rose garden, and he knew from her thoughts how tormented she was. Now things were only getting worse for the poor child, and the worst part wasn't even here yet!

Feeling his own heart pounding right along with hers at the pain of the situation facing her, Elrond had already made his decision. "Trust me Pinilyaer. My brother means well, but there are larger concern than Nuada. I intend to help you, but it will take time." He told her, his voice firm with resolve as he spoke.

"Thank you." Grace managed to whisper, her voice completely choked with emotion. She had no idea what those larger concerns were, but just hearing about Nuada and Haldir was enough bed news for one evening. She struggled to drag her shaking body from the chair, but his hand on her arm stopped her again, and his eyes blazed at her across the table. "Grace, you are going to have to make amends with Nuada. He is your guardian, and you need him right now. You must play along until I can put myself in a position to help you. Be very careful of yourself, and if things get too difficult before I come to you, let Cairbre know."

Grace said nothing else, simply heading to her truck. Lord Elrond's words had stoked a fury in Grace that made her anger at that vampire pale in comparison. No way was Nuada going to get paid to screw her – he was going to pay for the way he treated her, and it might very well be with his life.

 ** Office Building – Round One  **

When the Cadillac pulled into the luxury housing development, Grace saw nothing, but that was not unusual. She waited impatiently for the elevator, then faced the heavy wooden door like it was her mortal enemy. Lord Niall was damn lucky she had a key because there wouldn't have been a beautiful carved wood door there in a few seconds if she hadn't. Fortunately for him, Nuada wasn't there, and she knew because she searched every inch of that damn apartment for his sorry ass.

Returning to her truck, Grace was positive Nuada must still be at the office building. Her fingers felt so numb she could barely turn the keys, but she arrived at that glistening glass tower in record time, roaring into the parking lot and driving right up on the sidewalk in front of the building. When the elevator doors opened, the secretary looked up. She was just fixing to leave for the night, but instead of her usual pleasant greeting, she simply got up and quickly walked away. Grace looked frightening, and it didn't take above average intelligence to know she was there to hurt somebody. Her skin was glowing bright blue, her eyes were completely black, and she was so mad the very air around her vibrated as she walked.

Turning toward Nuada's office Grace could see the heavy wooden doors were closed. Not even pausing as she walked, Grace stalked down that corridor like she owned it. She wasn't here to play and her southern manners were the least of her worries. Screw knocking - she just threw the damn things off their hinges with her mind and casually walked through the opening where they once stood. Nuada left not long after she did, and unfortunately for her, Roxy was inside diligently working on some contracts for him.

Roxy was so shocked by the explosion of the doors, she didn't have time to recover before Grace's hand clamped on the back of her neck. "Start talking bitch, or die." Grace told her flatly, that venomous voice and evil glare telling Roxy she was not kidding. Roxy met two glistening black eyes with her own chocolate brown ones. Grace was flaming so hot Roxy could hear her hair singeing as Grace held onto her, and knew she was in a world of shit.

"I swear I don't know where Nuada went. He doesn't answer to me Grace!" she pleaded softly, but Grace was unmoved.

"Well you better home in on that bastard and fast, because I swear to god if you don't, I'm gonna fucking kill you." Neither Grace's voice or eyes wavered as she spoke, and Roxy's heart froze at her words, knowing Grace was absolutely capable of tearing her to shreds if she so desired. Praying to the Valar with all her might, she called out to Cairbre, but to her horror and amazement, he simply bolted the huge double doors to his office across the hall and hid!

"That sorry bastard!" she exclaimed in disbelief, but it didn't bother Grace one bit. With one hand still clamped on Roxy, Grace dragged the woman with her as she turned toward Cairbre's office. The heavy wooden doors to his office didn't pose any more of a problem to her than the others had, and within seconds they were sawdust. Not even pausing as she walked, the dust covered them as Grace pulled Roxy through the opening.

Cairbre leapt from his desk when the doors blew off their hinges, the phone already in his hand desperately calling Nuada. He wasn't answering, and that poor elf was as scared as he'd ever been in his life. He'd seen wars before, actually fought against the orcs so many, many years ago but what Cairbre saw in front of him was much more terrifying. He's seen Grace heal Rumil a few days before, but he'd never seen her pissed off.

That blue glow was familiar, but now her eyes were black, and right now those black eyes were staring directly at him. Nuada and Lord Niall had warned Cairbre about Grace and her temper, warning him never to anger her. Knowing that day had definitely come, Cairbre backed away from his desk, slowly coming to rest against the low credenza that followed the wall behind him.

"I'm going to give you five seconds to tell me where Nuada is, and then I'm going to kill you both." Grace told them in a low, evil voice and Cairbre believed her. He was praying that someone, anyone heard her tear those doors down or was going to answer the phone. Right then his speaker phone was ringing from his last placed call, and fortunately for him they did. Unfortunately the sound of Grace ripping a file cabinet apart and bouncing it off the wall drowned out the sound of the voice on the other end, and there was only a dial tone again when the crashes had faded.

"Grace! Please do not do this!" Cairbre begged her. "I swear to the Valar, I have no idea where Nuada went!"

"Four," Grace said menacingly, edging closer to Cairbre as she cleared everything from his desk with a thought, watching him cringe as the items crashed to the floor, papers flying everywhere as pens, paperclips and priceless paper weights all found themselves in a pile on the floor.

"Grace, listen to me please!" Cairbre was desperately begging her. "Calm down. Let me talk to you. I can find Nuada if you give me a chance. I'm positive I can reach him on the telephone."

Grace was unmoved. She didn't want a damn voice on a telephone, she wanted Nuada in person right in front of her, right now. "Three," she counted, sending a Tiffany lamp crashing against the wall inches from his head, specks of the glass hitting his cheek.

"Stop this please!" Roxy's shrill voice cut through the air. "I beg you Grace, listen to us! Nuada left, but he'll come right back, I'm sure! He is your sworn guardian and he will come to you if you call! He never breaks his word!"

Grace never hesitated or thought about stopping – hell, she never even blinked she was so mad. "Two." She continued counting, watching the terrified elf across from her sweat as he waited for her to kill him.

Roxy was horrified at what she was seeing and feeling. Her long brunette hair was still singeing under Grace's grasp, that sick smell filling the air around her as she honestly wondered if she was about to die. It didn't take a telepath to know how consumed by anger Grace was, but being a telepath she could clearly feel the pure fury rolling off her in waves. Being so close to Grace was overwhelming, and she knew Grace was about to lose control. If she did, she might very well bring half the building down!

As Grace prepared to say one, the very air shook around her, and the two elves trapped in that luxurious office suite knew she was fixing to explode. Thankfully the phone on Cairbre's desk rang at that very moment, and two black eyes watched intently as a trembling hand reached to answer it. "Hello?" his quivering voice said, followed by a slight pause after which he replaced the receiver. "Nuada is at Fangtasia." He told Grace in a breathless whisper barely loud enough for her to hear. He was both relieved and terrified, hoping Grace would leave them alone, but worried what she would do next.

Saying nothing else, Grace turned and quickly headed out of the offices, not giving Roxy or Cairbre so much as a backward glance as she walked away. If Nuada was at Fangtasia that was where Grace was going and Nuada better run. He avoided a fight with Haldir on Monday, but he was sure as hell going to get one on Friday, because Grace intended to kill that blonde haired bastard when she got her hands on him!

 ** Fangtasia – Round Two  **

Grace was fully engulfed by both fury and flames when that black Escalade tore into the parking lot of Fangtasia, finally coming to rest with the front roll bar actually touching the bumper of the Range Rover parked in the employee lot out back. Eric had never been luckier to be standing outside talking to Bill than he was that night, and he knew instantly he was for the fight of his life when Grace slid out of that truck.

"Where is that sorry bastard?" Grace growled out as she slammed the truck door hard enough to rock the entire vehicle. She was flaring so bright against the darkness she was even burning his vampire eyes, and Bill was actually backing away, terrified of this strange creature that looked like a human but obviously was not.

Eric immediately put himself between Grace and the back entrance, knowing she must be there for Nuada. No matter what she wanted with him, Grace didn't need to see Nuada right then. His supernatural friend had been at Fangtasia since the doors opened, and he was beyond drunk. Even if she did cuss him out, he'd never remember it!

Casually stepping in front of her, Eric decided a gentle approach to this situation was best. He'd seen Sookie this way before – and highly irate human women usually responded to kindness – Usually. Eric's masculine vampire charm was off the scale as he began talking to Grace, that voice smoother than satin, those eyes just glowing with concern. "Grace, please tell me what is wrong. I see you're very upset, but you cannot go in my bar this way. Why don't you tell me what's wrong? I'm sure I can help . . ."

Unfortunately, it was SO not working on Grace. Grace ignored him. Her only response was a very pointed glare that left him little doubt what he could do with that sultry little speech, as she attempted to walk right past him. She didn't make it. If kindness wasn't going to work, perhaps slightly strong methods were in order. Continuing to be gentle, Eric grabbed Grace by the shoulders as he tried to talk to her, his cold hands firm but still soothing as they clamped across the edges of her collar bones, his eyes locking with hers as he implored her to stop and listen to him.

That was one of the more surprising moments of Eric's long life because the instant he put his hands on her, Grace went crazy. She lit up like a bon fire, and Eric felt like he'd grabbed hold of a wildcat as she fought against him with a vengeance. His soothing grip instantly transformed into a fight for survival as he found himself struggling to keep hold of her. He stood a better chance of holding down an octopus because every arm and leg was going in a different direction as she squirmed and fought to get away with everything she had. Eric was at the disadvantage because Grace was flaming hot enough to burn his flesh, and while it would heal later, that didn't mean he wanted to be fried in the meantime!

"Stop it you little hellion!" he growled out viciously, but Grace had no intentions of stopping. She just fought back harder. Eric was trying not to hurt Grace, and he finally managed to get behind her, grabbing her with one arm around the waist and head locking her with the other one. "Grace! I'm gonna slap the shit out of you if you don't stop!" he threatened her, but that didn't work either. She just responded by biting the shit out of his arm.

Grace drew blood when she bit Eric, and now she had the taste of Eric's blood in her mouth. Vampire blood had a very, very strong effect on humans, and the older the vampire, the more powerful the blood – Eric was over a thousand year old and that was some vintage stuff right there. There was a booming trade in the illegal sale of vampire blood or "V" because of it's intense effects on humans – it was better than any illegal drug, costing just as much, and Grace was higher than a kite instantly. That blood in her mouth was the most fantastic thing Grace had ever tasted, and she latched hold of his arm like a leech, leaving Eric horrified.

In under a second, Eric went from trying to hold onto Grace to trying to make Grace let go. He fought to keep the arm around her waist while fighting to pull her mouth off his arm, all while she bit and screamed and generally pitched a fit. Eric was about to pitch one too. He didn't know what the hell to do with her, and Bill couldn't help that slight smile that came over him as he watched. It was hilarious.

Vampires are extraordinarily strong, but when Grace was flaming she was anything but a pushover and she was giving Eric about as good as she was getting. Eric was handicapped in the fight because he couldn't risk hurting her less Lord Niall come after him. Out of desperation, he finally ended up slamming Grace backwards onto the hood of his Corvette because it was the only thing handy, but it still took everything he had to hold her down. He had every inch of that long lean Viking body pressed against her and that gleaming fire engine red hood, and Grace was loving every minute of it.

"I'm gonna fuck you till you scream!" She told him as she looked up at those big blue eyes, and Grace meant it. Vampire blood made you hornier than hell, and combined with her anger, she was damn near uncontrollable. It had taken a good hold over her now, and Grace was so hot she would have screwed a snake if she could have gotten her hands on one.

Eric was nose to nose with her, his entire body pressing against her as hard as he could, his hands in her hands as he held her arms back against the car hood. If their clothes had been off that was probably what they would've been doing too considering the position they were in. "Oh hell no you won't!" Eric told her viciously, but instead of trying to get away, Grace was trying to get closer. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her hips up to meet his and it nearly scared him to death.

He managed to get one hand clamped over her mouth so she couldn't scream or bite him again, and when she started sucking his fingers he nearly went insane himself. Eric might be in love with Sookie, but he was still all man. There was a very wild and willing young woman pinned underneath him on the hood of his car that was feeling a little anxious to say the very least, and he was struggling to control that instant tightening he was feeling in his own groin.

Desperately, he tried to take his free arm and get her legs unwrapped from around him, but he was losing. "God dammit Grace, turn me loose!" he growled down at her, but she only giggled and tried to put her hands in his hair. Grace was beginning to get the upper hand because Eric's fangs were out now. She was getting his interest alright, and not necessarily in the way she wanted it.

When Pam walked out the employee entrance of Fangtasia to consult her boss about an issue behind the bar with the liquor order, she just stood there in complete amazement. After a moment of stunned silence, that dry drawl came cutting through the darkness of the parking lot. "If I wasn't seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it. You're finally gonna fuck someone on the hood of that car." Pam's eyes started shining too – that looked like a hell of a lot of fun, and it was something Eric had mentioned more than once, only Sookie wasn't willing.

Suppressing a huge smile, she went to stand beside the Corvette, her arms crossed over the front of her perfect pink twinset as she watched the two of them in an all out wrestling match as Grace writhed underneath Eric as he struggled to keep her away from anything important. "Get off your fucking ass and help me!" Eric growled out to Pam as he tried to get his fingers out of Grace's mouth. She had hold of them with her teeth, and she was honest to god growling up at him and Eric was about to lose his mind.

"What am I supposed to do?" Pam answered with a sneer. "She doesn't want me, but she sure seems to like you a lot."

Eric's blue eyes left little doubt she better get creative and find some way to help, so Pam reluctantly joined in, the two vampires managing to wrestle Grace's legs from around Eric and pin her to the hood of the car. Grace was way far gone. She felt like she was in a dream with stars floating in front of her eyes, and she was so hot with need she was literally on fire, blue flickers consuming her as she laid against that bright red hood.

"Well this was a bright idea." Pam drawled out, giving Eric a look of complete disdain as she held Grace's arms down and listened to her groan against the hood of the car. "And just what do you intend to do with her now?" Grace was singeing both of their hands, and they certainly couldn't keep hold of her like that for very long.

Eric was struggling to hold her down by her legs, and the hand he had pressed against the flat of her stomach was tormenting him in the worse way. Her shirt had come up partway, and his eyes were locked on that damn little gold dolphin shimmering under the parking lot lights as she sucked in every breath, just daring him to take a closer look. Eric didn't know what to do with her, but if Grace didn't get off the hood of that car and fast, he knew what he was going to do TO her.

Grace was Sookie's cousin and Lord Niall's great-granddaughter, and there was absolutely no chance of that every happening, not to mention Nuada would try to kill him if he even breathed on the girl. He was trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea as he stared at the young woman stretched across the hood of his car. If they put so much as a bruise on her, he was likely dead but there was no way he could turn her loose either! "Bill," he finally shouted, "get your ass inside and get Nuada out here."

Bill would have much rather stayed to watch, but he hurried inside to do Eric's bidding. Nuada was deeply engaged in a conversation with Logan, another vampire and friend of Eric's. Logan was one of the older vampires in the area, nearly five hundred himself, and like Eric he enjoyed talking to Nuada. They were lost in a discussion about medieval weapons when Bill's obviously distraught form showed up in front of their table. Nuada already had the feeling something was wrong because of all the calls he'd gotten earlier, but he'd chosen to ignore those calls, only answering the one from Cairbre that hurt his ears with the loud crash that he managed to return and tell him where he was. After that he cut his phone off. He shouldn't have done that.

Heading to the back entrance behind Bill, Logan tagged along, and when the three men came out of the back door none of them could believe what they were seeing. Eric was on his hand and knees over Grace, his arms and legs pinning her to the hood of his car, which was now floating some three feet or so off the ground, while Grace giggled and groaned, while glowing blue as a berry. Eric was cussing like a sailor, a torrent of some language no one had heard in hundreds of years pouring out of him like a river, as Grace laughed right in his face underneath him.

"I swear to God I will kill you Grace if you don't put my damn car down right now!" Eric threatened her, and he wasn't lying. Eric loved that brand new Corvette with every fiber in his vampire body, from it's gleaming red paint to his customized BLDSKR license tag, and if Grace tore it up, Nuada or Niall were gonna sure as hell replace it! He had one hand on her throat now, and he was seriously considering choking her till she passed out just to make her put the car down. His only concern was how much damage it would do to the car if she dropped it, and how much damage would come to him for choking her.

"Somebody better fucking help me right now!" he bellowed, knowing Nuada and Bill just came out of that back door. Those words alerted Grace that Nuada was within reach now and she went completely berserk, nearly throwing Eric off the car.

"I'm gonna kill you when I get my hands on you, you sorry blonde haired bastard!" Grace screeched out from under Eric, instantly returning to octopus mode as he fought to hold her down again. He weighed nearly twice as much as Grace, but he was still about lose their fight. That car hood was slick – he'd just had it waxed – and it had such a slope on it, they were starting to slide off.

Pam just couldn't believe it. She was standing there with a look of complete disbelief on her face, unable to tear her eyes away from what she was seeing. "God I wish I had a video camera right now." She muttered to herself, taking in the red of the car, the blue glow from Grace and Eric's pale white skin – it looked like the Fourth of July, and there were plenty of fireworks!

Eric was only in this for his car and his bar, and he didn't care what Grace did to Nuada so long as it was outside. "I'll let you go if you put my car down." He told her suddenly, tired of struggling against her and pissed to no end that his ears were ringing from her screaming in them. Hell at that point, he was willing to help kill Nuada if he was the cause of all this, and he was needing some personal relief in the worst kind of way.

Grace's huge grey eyes were wild when they met Eric's, but his words registered in her blazing hot brain and she put that car down as gentle as if it were floating on the breeze. The second the tires touched the ground, Eric jumped off Grace, and she came off that car like a house on fire.

Unfortunately, Logan and Nuada looked very much alike. They were both in that six foot, four inch lean body range with long blonde hair and pale skin and they both preferred to dress in solid black. Logan just happened to be the one standing closer to Grace, and he was completely unprepared when five feet two inches of furious part fae human woman came flying off the hood of that Corvette at him.

Nuada was three sheets to the wind, upset that Grace wouldn't talk to him and worried to death where she went that afternoon. He'd started drinking before he ever left the office, and he'd been at Fangtasia when the doors opened that night. In his deeply intoxicated state compliments of way too much Crown Royal, he was seeing just as many stars as Grace was and he just stood there with his head tilted in curiosity as Grace came off that car and went for Logan with everything she had.

That poor vampire didn't know what hit him. He'd been watching with as much surprise as the others, shocked to see a car floating in the air with his boss pinning a young woman on the hood. He didn't know if Eric was trying to feed on her, fuck her or kill her. And nothing could make his brain understand how that damn car got up there like that. Regardless, there is nothing that can prepare you for one hundred and twenty pounds of furious light blue human woman flying at you, especially when your leader is screaming "Don't you fucking hurt her!" as she does.

It was a tackle any professional football team would have been proud of, and Logan was stunned when he found himself flat on his back in the gravel parking lot of Fangtasia with Grace's hands clamped around his throat. It didn't matter – vampires don't breathe - so it wasn't like she was choking him or anything. Logan actually thought it was kinda interesting. It was the most excitement he'd had in years!

His excitement only lasted a few seconds before Grace found herself being drug off Logan backwards by two very firm masculine hands. They didn't belong to Eric, they didn't belong to Nuada – they didn't even belong to Bill - they belonged to Haldir of Lorien and he was pissed to no end.


	20. Power in the Blood

Chapter 20 – There's Power in the Blood

Glorfindel could not believe his eyes when their deep grey depths took in the sight before him. It was nearly midnight, time to be sleeping, although he rarely did, and as was his custom he was out enjoying the crisp night air, the solitude of the silent trees surrounding him bringing comfort to his ancient soul as he walked. It was Grace's loud groans that hit him first, the sound of a soul on fire, although he did not know what from.

When Haldir snatched Grace off Logan, he simply grabbed her and instantly disappeared, leaving a stunned group of vampires and one guardian standing behind Fangtasia wondering what the hell just happened. It was a very standard submission hold, and it was the exact hold Eric used earlier that night - one arm around her waist, one around her neck and shoulders – it was also the same hold Nuada used in the bathtub in Rivendell. Unfortunately, no matter who grabbed Grace in that standard submission hold - or why - Grace had the exact same reaction to it. She got extremely pissed off.

That little human woman was on fire in more ways that one, and while Haldir had hold of her, it sure wasn't going to last. Before being slammed into that Corvette hood, Grace nearly tossed Eric and Haldir of Lorien didn't have a car hood handy. With a furious screech, Grace threw that marchwarden backwards as hard as he'd ever been.

Her very brain was burning, every molecule in her body screaming and it was taking Grace's foggy brain a minute to figure out where she was and with whom. Nuada was the one she assumed had hold of her, and Grace was hell bent on killing that sorry bastard. Flipping around, she was shocked to see herself returned to the Marchwarden camp she'd been in less than two weeks prior. That wasn't Nuada she just threw across the clearing. She'd just tossed Haldir of Lorien to the ground behind her!

Already infuriated at having to go get her, Haldir was stunned to find himself climbing off the ground. When Cairbre showed up at the door of his office earlier, desperately pleading for Haldir to come and stop Grace from killing Nuada Haldir had threatened to strangle him with his bare hands. If Grace did kill that damn mercenary – good riddance! Refusing to even acknowledge the request, Haldir never planned on going to Grace, but after her screams came tearing through his mind, he couldn't ignore them. When he appeared in the human world, Haldir expected Grace to have hold of Nuada, not the strange man he found her choking in the dirt. Having no idea what was happening, Haldir's brain was as fogged as hers was, only now she had put him in the dirt.

Easing closer to the odd pair, Glorfindel watched carefully, wondering what they were going to do to one another. He'd heard all about Grace and her antics in Rivendell from Lord Elrond, and after seeing her heal Rumil, his curiosity burned. The golden warrior wanted to see just what this little human could do.

"Grace!" Haldir suddenly yelled at her. "What is wrong with you this night? Have you taken leave of your senses woman?"

Truth be told, yes she had. That huge dose of Eric's blood was very close to driving her insane, and the blood bond she shared with Haldir had asserted itself now. The two together were a lethal combination, and she had indeed taken complete leave of her senses.

Haldir wasn't in possession of his faculties either. Grace had stirred an anger in Haldir best left untouched. He was furious with Grace for the way he found her, furious because she slapped him, furious because she slept with Nuada, furious for making him hurt Rumil. That burning rage in combination with Haldir's own heated blood was a lethal combination of its own, and Haldir of Lorien was as out of his mind as she was.

Touching each other, even for that brief second he had hold of her, had ignited both of them.   
Vampire blood stoked a white hot desire in Grace that was flowing directly from her brain into Haldir's. Her mind was telling him every single thing she wanted to do to him, and it was including the details. His mind was listening carefully, and they were both on the verge of spontaneous combustion as they stared at each other in that clearing.

Letting his anger rule, Haldir was intent on subduing Grace. He quickly threw her to the ground and sat on top of her, his knees pinning her shoulders to the ground as his hands went for her arms. Grace was taken so much by surprise it took her a moment to realize what was happening. Shocked into submission, she recovered quickly. The blue flash hurled the Haldir off and she screamed in fury, watching him slam into the ground a short distance away from her as she slowly climbed back to her feet.

White hot desire be damned, now Grace was the furious one . . . furious at having her ass snatched back to the elf realm again, furious at having been denied her chance to tell Nuada what a sorry SOB he was, and furious that anybody just threw her in the dirt with her damn good clothes on! Standing there fuming, Grace locked her eyes on Haldir. She was ready to tear him apart!

Haldir was completely unfazed by Grace and her antics. Hitting the ground was nothing, and that marchwarden was back on his feet in a second, determined he would get revenge on Grace for everything he'd suffered through these last few weeks.

Glaring at him, Grace flared deeper blue, warning that elf to think twice before he touched her again. She was completely unprepared for a second elf to get involved, and Glorfindel stunned Grace when he came at her from the side. Clamping those huge arms around her, Glorfindel dragged the little human toward the sparring ring behind the great hall. It was brightly lit with torches because they had been holding various competitions over the course of the afternoon and evening. If Haldir and Grace wanted to fight, that was the place. It would help keep the fragile human woman safe, Haldir could see her more clearly, and if she could truly manipulate items the way he'd heard, the arena was thankfully bare. There was nothing for Grace to use against them.

The evening's events of archery and sparring were long finished for the night, yet a group of marchwardens remained for pleasant company and conversation. They were in no small way shocked when the now empty arena suddenly came to hold their General, the golden warrior Glorfindel and one extremely enraged human woman.

Unsure what they were witnessing, the men slowly began to reassemble themselves around the arena. None were familiar with Grace and her peculiar talents, but they had heard stories about the strange human from Rivendell who healed Rumil a few nights before, and they were eager to see more. Staring in stunned silence, they could hardly believe what they did see.

"You get your god damned hands off me!" Grace hissed at Glorfindel, her voice slithering through the quiet stillness of the night.

Standing near the entrance of the arena, Glorfindel still had hold of Grace waiting for Haldir to catch up. With a furious groan and a huge flash of blue lightening, Grace sent Glorfindel hurling backwards, his feet coming from under him, a huge thud sounding as that massive elf hit the ground hard. The golden warrior was shocked to no end that little human threw him, and he got off that ground fully intending to kill her.

Not the least bit frightened of Glorfindel in her current state, Grace clenched her fists and screamed at him, her eyes burning black as she stared at him, intently focused on the giant golden haired elf who just had hold of her. "You Bastard! Don't you ever touch me again!"

Grace was completely consumed with anger at this point. Her skin was licked with blue flames, lightening danced in her eyes and her hair was wild around her face. She was dressed in solid black, from her skin tight stretch jeans to her black turtleneck and black leather vest and the marchwarden elves were mesmerized at the very sight of her. They had never seen anything like that strange human woman in all their time!

Determined to put his hands on her, Haldir went after Grace again but she got hold of him instead, flinging her former lover across that arena like no more than a piece of paper. "Asshole!" she growled in fury, determined nobody would touch her again.

Obviously, further intervention was required at this point, and several marchwardens came into the arena to drag Glorfindel away. There was no doubt if he got hold of Grace, he would indeed kill her. Haldir was left to subdue her, and his two brothers came to help, wondering how they could possible help control this strange little human woman they knew he was infatuated by.

Anger boiled within her very soul, and Grace allowed her fury to take her. She glowed in the firelight, consumed with hatred at being brought to this place again, and at Haldir for the way he was treating her. Glaring over the large group of elves surrounding the arena, Grace wasn't the least bit concerned. She was a formidable enemy, and she was furious. Ever so slowly, she turned around and looked at each and every one of them, realizing just how sick and tired she was of elves in general. This was going to be a lot of fun!

Slowly, Rumil and Orophin approached her, worried of harming Grace. Rumil remembered Grace clearly from her visit to the Healing House and quite frankly was terrified of her. While he appreciated her touch, healing like that was not normal, and he had no idea what else she might be capable of. Glaring at her across the soft expanse of dirt, the elf hoping she would back down but Grace only glared right back, even laughing as she stared at him, daring him to come and get her.

The three brothers were slowly surrounding Grace, doing exactly what they were trained to do. Unfortunately, Grace was not a typical opponent. Going after the closest elf, Grace caught hold of Rumil with her mind, holding him frozen for a moment. Seeing the shock on his face, Grace took advantage, slamming his body against the huge tree towering behind him. His body hit with a crunch, ribs snapping as he met the unforgiving bark of the huge trunk. That painful cry tore through the still night air, and Grace would have killed him right there if not for Orophin.

Coming to his brothers aid, Orophin's bow was strung and drawn in under a second, the tip of the arrow firmly pressed against Grace's right temple before she could even draw a breath. He uttered something in elven she didn't understand, but his actions let Grace know in no uncertain terms that arrow would find it's way through her head if she broke one more bone in Rumil's body. Grace froze, feeling the tip of the arrow split her skin, a single drop of blood beginning to trace it's way down the side of her face.

In that moment, another arrow came singing through the night air, missing Rumil's head by less than a millimeter, brushing his hair as it flew past impaling itself deep into the tree it finally met. "Release her." Cairbre demanded in elf speak. This was not his fight, but no one would harm the woman he was entrusted by Lord Elrond to watch over on earth, not even one of Haldir's brothers.

"When Rumil is safe." Orophin quietly refused, determined the human woman would bring no further harm to his brother.

"Now." Came the forceful command right in his ear as a vicious blade slid under his chin, forcing Orophin's head back slightly as it pressed ever so firmly against his neck. "You will release her now." Haldir told his brother, completely incapable of controlling this blood driven fury that had consumed him, fully ready to slit his own brother's throat should he draw one more drop of blood from Grace. Haldir wanted to kill Grace, but he would not share that prize.

Knowing Orophin was distracted, Grace gathered herself, closing her eyes and instantly reducing the bow and arrow being held against her to ash in his fingers. Seeing the arrowhead fall to the ground, Grace was on him in an instant. She caught Orophin before he took the first step, snatching the elf who just threatened her from his feet and slamming him against the ground like a sack of potatoes. His bones crunched the same as Rumil's had, and she laughed again. Screw every last one of them.

Haldir barely had time to withdraw his knife before Grace snatched Orophin away from him, and Haldir quickly realized both of his brothers were in very real danger of being killed by her. "I warn you once Grace. Free my brothers!" Haldir's commanding voice demanded, his blue eyes dark with fury in the dim light, the vicious blade glittering in his hand as he flipped the perfectly balanced weight of it in agitation. "Now." He ground out hatefully, daring her to ignore him.

Turning to face him, Grace stared at the elf she shared this strange blood bond with, the two of them locking eyes like two caged tigers ready to tear each other apart. "Make me." She told him in a voice dripping with venom, daring him to try and make her.

"I promise you will never hurt my brothers again." Haldir uttered in a guttural voice, pure evil pouring out of him as he stared at her.

"I promise you couldn't stop me if you were the last elf alive." She hissed back at him, the hatred in her burning just as fiercely as his, knowing she was pushing him even farther into his furious insanity.

Cairbre had made his way to the arena now, wondering if he could calm either of them before they killed each other. Calling out to Grace from the arena border, Cairbre begged her to listen. "Grace please! Let them go - they have no part in this!"

The desperation in the silver haired elf's voice registered with something buried in the farthest depths of Grace's brain, and she lifted her mental grip on the two brothers, allowing the other marchwardens to drag them off to safety. Her blood had its sights firmly set on the marchwarden she wanted, and he was right in front of her. Once the brothers were clear, everyone vacated the arena, leaving the two lovers to face off against one another, wondering which one would survive.

No one had ever seen Haldir of Lorien so consumed by anger. His face was nearly unrecognizable in his fury, blue eyes cold as death, that beautiful voice now raw and evil. He was circling Grace carefully, weighing the strange opponent he was facing, his fury completely overtaking him. If Haldir wanted to harm Grace the night she went after him at the wading pools, it was nothing compared to what the marchwarden general wanted to do to that woman right now. To hell with her being a fragile human – he genuinely wanted to kill her.

Haldir hated the way Grace looked. The human clothes reminded him that she did not belong in his world, that he had been forced into this strange primal bond with her and his anger burned even hotter. This was a new low for Haldir, one he never thought he could reach, but Grace had brought him here, forced him down to levels he never thought he could fall to just as he had done to her. The evil blade in his hand continued to shine and flash in the flickering firelight as he flipped the curved silver blade relentlessly, impatiently waiting for her to move, to speak, to do anything to give him a reason to fall on her.

Grace watched the beautiful elf she thought she loved slowly circle her, begging her to give him a reason to kill her. Refusing to move, Grace remained perfectly still. She would not bait Haldir, but she would certainly stop him if he came after her. Finally Haldir couldn't stand it anymore, stalking his way to stand in front of her, the two of them separated by about five feet of space, either of them capable of killing the other where they stood. His eyes were dark and evil as he stared down at her, his face tortured as he stared down the woman his blood boiled for. Grace met his stare with huge eyes, darkened to black by her wild emotions, flat and evil, not telling him what she was thinking.

All around that arena, deeply disturbed marchwardens watched the strange pair face off against the other, wondering if there was any way to interfere. Cairbre and Glorfindel were watching too, positive either one or both of them would die within the next few moments, powerless to stop the strange bond that controlled them.

"You little bitch." Haldir growled out, wanting nothing more than to choke the very life out of Grace where she stood. "You should never have been allowed in my world!"

"I don't remember inviting you to come and get me!" Grace taunted him, that sultry southern drawl just daring him to come for her. Haldir took the bait, taking a menacing step toward her, waiting to see if she'd throw him across the arena again.

Grace didn't throw him, but she sure as hell dared him to come and get her, nearly driving him insane when she ran her hands down the front of that tight leather vest. "But you sure did enjoy me once you got me here didn't you," she sneered, "or have you already forgotten?" she drawled out, sultry and smooth in the night air.

It was the lowest blow she could make, and Haldir completely snapped when he heard her words, the warrior and killer instincts in him taking over before he even realized it. Faster than she could breathe, that elf lifted Grace from her feet and slammed her body against the unrelenting trunk of the massive tree behind her. Grace was very lucky those blue flickers traced under her skin, because if not for her protective shield, the impact would have broken half the bones in her body. Haldir finally had Grace at his mercy, his forearm against her neck, his blade at her heart. One twitch, and she would be dead.

Fighting for control, Grace slowly extinguished the blue glow from herself, forcing the blue flames to leave her skin as he stared into her face. Somewhere in the distance she heard Cairbre call out, knowing he was being restrained by several of the marchwardens. The marchwarden who was her friend could not believe what he was seeing! This was pure insanity - Haldir was sure to kill her!

Haldir's entire body pinned Grace to that tree as the overwhelmed elf held her there. She could smell him, feel his chest moving against her as he struggled to breath, see the sweat on his face as tortured blue eyes glared down at her. Suddenly Haldir reared back with the knife and slammed it into the tree with a ferocious scream, his fury echoing through the night as vicious as any battle cry ever had. That evil curved blade brushed so close to Grace's head, it actually caught some of her hair, and that horrible sound that tore from his body was so loud her ears rang. Across the arena, Cairbre and Glorfindel both felt their heart stop, convinced Haldir had killed Grace, positive she was dead.

Grace stood frozen. Her heart had completely stopped beating, her lungs refused to fill and she was extremely close to passing out.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Haldir rasped out to her, his voice hoarse and rough with emotion. That perfect porcelain face was so close their noses were almost touching, those velvety blue eyes dark with anger as they bore into her huge grey ones.

Slowly those eyes filled with tears, as her heart bled for the tortured man who held her. "I am so sorry . . . I never meant for any of this to happen to you." Grace whispered, her voice fragile and frightened in the sudden silence of the huge arena as she slowly realized just how close Haldir came to killing her.

It took a minute for her words to register in Haldir's burning mind, but his expression slowly softened as he fought against the blood bond to calm himself. Closing his eyes, he leaned into her, his forehead coming to rest against hers, his breath hot and strong on the skin of her face as he sucked in deep steadying breaths, forcing himself to calm. Grace closed her eyes too, the overwhelming emotions slowly draining out of her as she pushed the anger away. Slowly Haldir lowered his arm from her neck, easing it to her side as he pulled his other hand off the handle of the knife he had buried in the tree.

Haldir's face was turned away from her in shame as the elf dropped his head against the reality of what he'd almost done. Opening them again, he faced her, his glistening blue gaze tearing across her face, seeing the tears slipping silently from her shocked grey eyes as she looked up at him. Grace was terrified, positive he would kill her, and it tore Haldir of Lorien apart.

In one swift movement, Haldir caught Grace in his arms, dragging her against him and kissing her breathless. Overwhelmed by the ferocity of the blood bond between them, Haldir held her, instantly taking them from the arena to his home, to that huge wooden platform suspended some twenty-five feet up in the air that was the Marchwarden General's talan on the other side of that camp.

When Haldir finally drew his lips from hers, Grace was stunned. She had expected him to kill her, instead he had kissed her until her heart nearly stopped, and she had no idea where they were. Giving her no time to think, Haldir was on her. In one swift motion, the leather vest was unzipped and on the floor, her jeans off in seconds, his hands moving over her trembling body frantically in the dim light of the simple wooden interior.

They met each other in a violent embrace, so desperate to release themselves from the torment that had consumed them both. Haldir found himself instantly out of control again, his body literally burning from the inside out as his very blood boiled in its need for Grace. The desire to feel loved again overtook him, needing to erase the pain of hearing her cries to Nuada. Catching her mouth hard with his, Haldir heard Grace gasp against him, tasting her blood in his mouth as his tongue filled it, two demanding hands wrenching the black turtleneck over her head. Dragged her bare flesh against him, Haldir's blood burned even hotter, his mouth frantic as he nipped at the curve of her shoulder. The trail of red marks stained her flesh, then found themselves soothed with velvet lips and the hot wetness of his tongue as he painstakingly worked them away.

Consumed, Grace tore at his shirt, burning to feel his bare skin against hers. He ripped it off himself, throwing it away and dragging her naked flesh against his. It was electric when their bodies met for the first time, hot skin to hot skin as the thin sheen of sweat that already covered them both slicked them, allowing them to slide freely against each other creating a maddening friction as they worked each other into a frenzy. Grace clung to him in the strangeness of the simple wooden structure, her fingers digging into the wide expanse of porcelain skin that made up the breadth of his shoulders, fingernails leaving small bloody trails as she tore them up his ribcage, feeling the muscles rippling beneath his skin as his hands moved over her.

His hands ran wild, roaming from her shoulders to her thighs, thumbs pausing to brush over her hipbones before heading lower, feeling her strain against him as his fingers found the delicate lace of the panties that contained her. Leaving them for now, Haldir ripped her bra off, throwing it away as his mouth instantly captured the skin he'd just exposed, working her with his tongue until she squealed against him, her hands buried in that long platinum hair as she pressed his head against her flesh even harder.

Glorfindel had come to see if Haldir was going to finish her off, and he could already hear Grace's moans and squeals from down below. Instantly, he knew what was going on up in that talan because he'd heard Grace cry out that night at the stables. Shaking his head to himself, he walked away. This bond between them was a horrible and dangerous thing, and he wondered what would pass between them now that their anger was past. Everyone in that marchwarden camp would know before it was over because it took twelve to fifteen hours for the effects of "V" or vampire blood to wear off. They were going to be some of the longest and most wonderful hours of Haldir's long life.

Haldir threw her nearly bare body down on his bed, and fought to control himself. He failed miserably. Dropping to his knees, he started with the body part closest to him, grasping that foot in his hands and starting right along the edge of her ankle. Ever so slowly, his tongue forged a path up that leg, wandering against the back of her knee, tracing against the inside of her thigh as he enjoyed the very taste of her skin in his mouth. She moaned beneath his touch, and Haldir found himself lost to his desire. His hands came to find the delicate lace border that was the top of her undergarment, and as his fingers drew down the flimsy lace that kept her from him, his mouth came up to meet it, possessing her with his mouth.

As his mouth touched her, Grace wondered if she would die from rapture, crying out to him in the stillness, overcome with desire. That cry was what he needed. Haldir needed to know Grace belonged to him again, and it only pushed him farther. At some point she could take no more, and he came to lay beside her. Grace tore at his pants, fighting to free him from the heavy fabric that separated them and feel him again. Grace was tearing at the leather ties that held his pants together, and she could absolutely not get them loose. Refusing to even attempt it himself, Haldir simply ripped them apart, slipping them off in seconds then sliding himself against Grace's bare flesh laid out across his bed.

He was over her in an instant, his mouth covering hers just as his body claimed hers, completely filling her in every way. The feelings they shared so long ago in this same strange world returned to consume them both, and they lost themselves to it. Haldir worshipped every inch of her, every gentle touch, every faint brush of lips and fingers meant only to please her and when she found her pleasure, she flashed blue, instantly passing those feelings on to him and it shocked him. It he hadn't been holding on to the headboard it would have thrown across the room the force of it rocked him so, and moments later when he found his own pleasure she flashed blue again, drawing it from deep within him, sharing it with him completely. It was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced, unlike anything anyone else had ever experienced, and it was magnificent.

Finally, his breathing slowed and he became aware that she was trembling, both from the cool night air and with emotion from being so close to him. He raised himself from her, leaving the bed to collect a blanket for them, but taking her had not sated either of them and seeing him naked in the soft light brought Grace a renewed fury of wanting him.

She was out the bed and after him in a second, and unable to resist, Haldir slammed her into the bedroom wall. His body was strong and lean, his arms like steel as they held her, preventing her from moving, captured in his grasp. He thrilled in her moans of pleasure as he cupped her against him and dragged her up the wall to meet him, ripping the cry from her as he took her again, forcing his will on her as she drowned in the vampire blood lust that held her. Grace was completely out of control as he loved her, trapped between the hard wood of the wall and the hard body that possessed her she felt like she would die, and when she found pleasure again every marchwarden in that camp heard her scream.

Grace could not control the lust Eric's blood forced on her, and Haldir refused to do it for her, tormenting her body as he found pleasure over and over again. It went on for hour after hour, cry after moan after squeal after groan tearing from both of them, filling the camp with the sounds of pleasure being found over and over again. It was light out before they relented, finally having nothing left to offer the other one. Haldir had touched her every way possible, teasing her, tormenting her, satisfying her, torturing her.

Pure exhaustion took them both and when the sun fell again Haldir realized Grace was still sleeping, exhausted from everything she had been through. Quietly, he laid with her, holding her gently, wanting to provide some comfort to her for what she had endured the night before. He was horrified at what he had done. His love making had always been reverent. In Rivendell he took her gently, loving her carefully and completely. Last night he had done the opposite, taking what he wanted, wild in his need to have her again, using her weakness as the blood lust held her. He had also damn near killed her, coming within a hairsbreadth of slamming that fierce battle blade he had carried for hundreds of years right through her against that tree.

Disgusted with himself, he slipped from the bed, standing there watching her breathe in the stillness of the rising sun. He was terrified of what that fragile human woman laying on his bed could do to him, and he hoped she could forgive him for what he had done.

When Grace woke a little later, it took a while for her brain to focus, overwhelmed at all the thoughts that came at her all at once. The worst effects of the "V" were worn off, the lust gone, but that vampire blood was in her system now, and Grace's body did not tolerate vampire blood. She was barely to the sink before she was violently ill, every part of her rejecting the blood that had consumed her for the past twenty-four hours.

Haldir was gone to check on his own brothers, both now laying in the Healing House, battered and bruised from Grace's wrath, and he returned more than furious at the little human woman once again. That wrath turned to sympathy because she was suffering plenty on her own, hanging over the sink throwing up for all she was worth in the darkness of his talan. Incapable of soothing her, he finally got some clothes on her and called for Glorfindel, lighting lanterns for them to see so he might tend to her.

Neither knew what was wrong with her, and after laying hands on her Glorfindel could only surmise she suffered from some type of poisoning. The crushed plants leaves he mixed with water offered no relief and soon she was burning with heat as her blood fought violently with itself. It was not quite so bad as it had been in Rivendell, but it was horrible just the same, and she suffered terribly through the night.

At some point, they moved her outside, laying her on the cool wooden floor hoping it might bring some relief. Both found themselves stunned when she commanded the storm clouds to heed her will and fling their freezing drops down to wash the fire tormenting her away. It rained nowhere else, save that space where she was, and Glorfindel knew she was one of the most powerful creatures he had ever encountered.

The rain offered some relief, and by the time the sun rose the next morning she was sitting up, pale and drawn but capable of coherent thought again. Taking nothing more than a sip of water, she said nothing, remaining silent as the two huge warriors considered her sitting there in her complete state of damp disrepair. It took time, but her clothes mostly dried, and she finally began to feel a little better. By afternoon, Grace was up and gingerly walking around, although she was not talking. Haldir left to tend his brothers again, and Glorfindel stayed behind to watch her.

That huge blonde warrior still terrified the shit out of Grace, and she wanted nothing more than to be anywhere other than there. Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer. 'Please take me to the Healing House." She asked in a small, careful voice.

He didn't answer her, just gave her a cold look in response. Grace didn't like being ignored, and after pacing for a few moments, simply walked right off the edge of the talan. There were no railings, the platform simply stopped. Glorfindel thought she was trying to kill herself, and watched in complete amazement as she stopped herself before hitting the ground, just stepping onto the ground as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He tore down the ladder after her, realizing he didn't really have a choice but to take her to the Healing House!

Grace had an idea of where the Healing House was, and as she made her way down the soft dirt path, Glorfindel fell into step beside her. The giant golden haired elf was considering her carefully. He still didn't like this strange little human woman, although he had to admit she could do some pretty impressive things. Silently the odd couple made their way to the low wooden structure she'd been in some two weeks prior, finding not one but now two damaged elves laying on the low beds while Haldir paced restlessly between them, furious that he allowed this to happen.

His eyes were colder than ice when she walked through the door, but his expression left little doubt that Grace healing his brothers would be an excellent idea for her very survival. It was after all, the least she could do since she was the one who put there in the first place!

Grace didn't say one word, just made her way over to Rumil first. He was even more terrified of her this time, but his broken ribs kept him from doing much protesting as Grace flamed blue and slapped those two little tanned hands on his bare chest. It only took a few minutes and he was good as new, already sitting up on the bed and taking a few deep test breaths as she made her way over to Orophin.

Orohpin was scared to death of Grace. The way she'd grabbed hold of him with her mind felt like a huge invisible fist had engulfed him, and he never wanted to feel that way again. His grey eyes were much lighter than Grace's and they were gleaming in icy fear as she reached to touch him. Seeing him tremble, Grace frowned and looked over to Haldir. The least he could do was comfort his poor damn brother! She didn't say anything, but her eyes commanded him to get his ass over there and help. He immediately joined her, and within moments, Grace had him patched up good as new too, not leaving until he was sitting up and taking those same deep breaths.

The last time they tried to have a conversation in the Healing House it didn't end very well, so knowing his brothers were fine, Grace silently headed for the door, surprised with Haldir joined her instead of Glorfindel. It was Sunday afternoon now, and Grace knew she needed to get back to her own world. She'd done little besides throw up since last night, and now that she was back among the living, she wasn't feeling much like talking, so they walked in uncomfortable silence back to his talan.

Haldir honestly didn't know what to say to Grace. He'd sworn to protect her, but he was completely confused by how he felt seeing her again, deeply disturbed at the horrible anger she'd been able to stir within him instantly. Haldir didn't want to admit it, but he was absolutely terrified of her. When she left Rivendell, he thought he loved this woman, but seeing her now he was more in awe of her than anything else, and he knew he had to find some way to release himself from this blood bond that bound them together. If he didn't, there was a very good chance neither of them would survive.

***************************************

It was noon on Monday before Grace saw Nuada for the first time. Cairbre had returned her once again to Sookie's house, and thankfully she and Eric had her truck there waiting for her. Sookie had gasped in horror at the bruises covering her cousin, knowing Grace had been through more than she could even repeat since Friday night. Grace was terrified Sookie would be furious with her over her antics with Eric, but thankfully she wasn't. Her brother Jason had his own very unfortunately encounter with "V" once, and if it could do that to him, it was no surprise what it did to Grace.

The two cousins sat and talked until way up in the morning, Sookie listening intently as Grace told her about her fight with Haldir, and about the making up afterward. They were actually both much more concerned with what Lord Elrond had shared with Grace during their dinner date about elf love, and about Nuada's compensation for watching over her. That brought a terrible frown to both girl's faces, and Sookie promised to see if she could get anything out of Eric about that. If Nuada had said anything, even slipped out a tiny tidbit of information, Eric would remember.

Neither cousin slept much that night, both worried about their great-grandfather and just how seriously he took his involvement in their lives. Lord Elrond had been adamant. Whatever Lord Niall wanted, Lord Niall got, and it didn't seem to matter at what cost. Sookie also found herself wondering what Claudine got in return for all those times she'd saved her ass – wondering if she got paid a flat rate, or if she got paid for each life saving event . . . were some worth more than others? How much more was killing a werewolf worth than a friendly pop over? It seemed so stupid, but yet she wondered . . . Just how much was she worth to her great-grandfather? In the bedroom across the hall, Grace was wondering the same exact thing. How much was she worth to Nuada, and was he going to get a big fat bonus for sleeping with her?

Come Monday morning, Grace was taking full advantage of the fact that fairies and elves spent very, very little time around humans, and that her great-grandfather was willing to do absolutely anything for her. Both of those factors were playing in her favor, and she intended to take full use of both of them. She slapped a smile that purely oozed happiness on her face – her best imitation of the "Sookie Smile" and her cousin would have been proud! Grace walked right into that huge office she shared with Nuada as if it was the happiest day of her life and he was there alright, plus he had a visitor.

Not even going to sit her purse down at her desk first, Grace went directly to wrap her arms around Lord Niall, purely squeezing him as she planted a big fat kiss right on his cheek. He loved outward signs of affection, and it just made him glow. Grace made sure to stand there and rub her hand on his shoulder sweetly for a minute, before pretending to tear herself away to go put her things at her desk and come right back. She didn't even sit down. She stood right beside him, her eyes glowing as she looked down at him, telling him how happy she was to see him.

That was absolutely not how she felt at all, but Grace could lie as well as the next person, and if there had ever been a time for telling lies, it was right then. Sookie had told Grace how her morals had slipped dramatically in the years she'd known the vampires, and Grace was beginning to feel hers loosening dramatically herself. Survival outranked sleeping good at night from time to time, and this was definitely one of those times.

"It is wonderful to see you great-grandfather!" she cooed down at him, his sea green eyes just sparkling back up at her. "I didn't know you were going to surprise me by visiting today! You should have told me, I would have dressed up just for you." And lord knows, Grace hadn't dressed up, because she was wearing a Corona t-shirt, some cut off sweatpants and her favorite zip front hoodie, but Lord Niall didn't care one bit.

Nuada was just waiting for Grace to have the nerve to meet his gaze across that desk, but Grace kept her attentions firmly focused on her great-grandfather. She was smart enough to know sucking up to him was definitely in her best interest right then, flatly refusing to acknowledge the glistening pair of emerald green eyes that were firmly locked on her.

Niall beamed back at Grace, and behind that big gleaming wood desk, Nuada watched her with thinly veiled contempt. Grace was obviously up to no good, but he was in a world of shit himself. If she could soothe Lord Niall, more power to her because he was not looking forward to the ass chewing he knew was heading his way! Niall had just touched that chair when Grace walked in, and her timing could not have been better.

"I came by to see how you were child." Niall told her softly, his voice melodic and beautiful in the quiet of the huge room. "I worry for you, and I heard you had become quite upset for some reason. Is everything alright?" His eyes told her the concern was genuine, and Grace knew it was. That didn't mean he had to know what happened though, and so long as she kept talking they would stay out of her thoughts.

Grace slid the heavy leather chair right next to his before easing to sit in it, taking his hands in hers because she knew he loved that. "I'm fine great-grandfather! I got mad over some things Friday night, and I'm sorry I made such a scene, but I promise I'm gonna apologize to Eric and Logan for the way I acted."

His beautiful green eyes were taking in every inch of Grace while she talked, and she did sound very genuine. The happy part wasn't entirely untrue either. Fifteen hours of sex with Haldir of Lorien was enough to leave any woman happy – thrilled actually - and Grace was damn near glowing with sexual satisfaction as she sat there. Eric's blood wasn't hurting any either. She may have had an allergic reaction to it, but she was still getting some of the lingering side effects. Even though she was beat all to hell, she felt as happy as a clam as she sat in that chair.

Niall smiled at her in return, his hands clasping hers firmly in his, genuinely pleased at her words. Perhaps all of this was nothing. Grace just lost her temper as fragile human women will do at times, and she was fine now. As he'd said before, he had no problems with Grace spending time with Haldir. Whatever made Grace happy, made Lord Niall happy.

Turning narrowed eyes to Nuada, Niall didn't look nearly so pleased. It was his job as Grace's guardian to keep her safe and out of trouble. Less than an hour before coming there he'd dropped off a check for over five thousand dollars made out to Eric Northman for new shocks and tires for his precious Corvette, compliments of Grace and her temper tantrum. If she was going to get mad, it was Nuada's job to stop her from tearing up anything and he had failed miserably.

Not only that, Lord Niall's eyes were glued on the remnants of the bite mark that marred his neck, disgusted to see such a thing publicly displayed for all to see. If Nuada was going to let someone bite him, the very least he could do was hide the damn thing! His voice was colder than ice when he spoke to Nuada. "It would be in your better interest to keep Grace happy." He warned, and Nuada's eyes froze over while Grace watched.

Turning gentle sea green eyes back to Grace, Niall had a slight smile as he patted her ever so gently on her head like she was a little puppy. "Don't you worry child. If you get upset again, you let Nuada know what is bothering you and I promise he will take care of it for you."

Grace could hardly contain the fit of laughter that almost took her when he said that, and she had to fight back a smile of her own. Nuada could kiss her ass and he was her problem. She said nothing, refusing to let her great-grandfather know that he was part of that problem too. Her glittering grey eyes made a silky slide from Niall's to Nuada's and she could tell from that fire burning way down deep in them he planned to choke her ass as soon as her great-grandfather walked out of that room. He was just waiting to get his hands on her.

Deciding to take full advantage of her great-grandfather while he was there, Grace slid right off that leather and walked around behind Nuada. His heart nearly stopped beating when Grace casually leaned over the chair behind him and put her hands on his shoulders and leaned her face right down so she was breathing in his hair.

"Don't worry great-grandfather." Grace said sincerely as she locked eyes across the desk with Niall. "Nuada does a fine job satisfying my needs. He just hasn't been feeling too well these past few days. He wasn't himself on Friday night, but I'm sure whatever little bug bit him to make him feel so bad is long gone now." Her voice was smooth, but that little sarcastic edge in there was just for him.

Grace was baiting him, and Nuada knew it. The entire time she was talking, she was playing in that gorgeous silky hair, finally running soft fingers flickering with blue flames up the side of his neck, erasing every trace of that damn bite mark from his neck. When she finished, she returning her hands to his shoulders, actually slipping her fingers inside the collar of his black silk shirt.

Lord Niall was watching Grace and Nuada with more than a little surprise. There was definitely something going on between the two of them, he just didn't know what it was, and he knew for a fact she'd just spent the entire weekend with Haldir in the Northern Wood. He frowned slightly. "Grace weren't you just in the elf realm with Haldir?"

Nuada couldn't help the tenseness that took him when he heard that name, and Grace responded by subtlety tightening her grip on him, telling him to keep his mouth shut. "I was." She answered simply, her expression never changing. "It was nice to spend time with an old friend. And didn't Nuada tell you? Haldir stopped by to see him last week, too. Guess they had some catching up to do since Rivendell too! Isn't that right Nuada?"

Taking a very careful breath, Nuada matched Grace's expression and tone. "Yes he did. We had a very pleasant visit, and I'm actually planning to go see him myself real soon." Now it was Nuada's turn to let Grace know what he was thinking with his own sarcastic tone, and she prayed Nuada didn't really mean that.

Standing to leave, Lord Niall gave Grace one more careful lingering gaze, the curiosity in his eyes obvious as they ran over her taking up for Nuada that way, but he said nothing. He believed his great-granddaughter, although he knew deep inside he shouldn't have. She was obviously up to something, but he'd allow it, at least for now.

As soon as he was gone, Grace leaned down to Nuada's ear, her breath hot against that sensitive skin of his pointed ear as she spoke to him. Her voice was sultry, low and seductive but her words were venomous, pure poison as they flowed from her lips. "You don't deserve an apology, and me covering for your sorry ass is the closest thing you'll ever get to one too." She straightened, slowly dragging her fingers across his chest as she did, daring him with every inch of torment they left behind. Turning to leave the room, she ran burning grey eyes over him. "You told me I was playing a dangerous game once. Let's see who wins."

Nuada couldn't help the surprise that crossed his face or the smile that caught the corners of his mouth as he leaned back in that obnoxious leather chair and watched her leave. He also couldn't help reaching to put a hand over the still warm places on his shirt where Grace's arms had just been. It he'd ever wanted a challenge he certainly had one, and he couldn't wait to see who won!

That smile disappeared about two seconds later when Lord Niall instantly reappeared in front of Nuada's desk, his expression burning as he leaned across the desk to glare right in Nuada's face. "You take advantage of who you are Nuada." He told him coldly. "I do not know what is going on between the two of you, but do not think that you will take advantage of my great-grandchild! You will make amends to her for these things, and if I ever see another mark like that on your body, you will most certainly regret it!" He straightened himself, taking in the shocked expression on Nuada's face with satisfaction, and with one more lingering stare, disappeared again.


	21. The Hole In My Heart

Chapter 21 – The Hole in my Heart

Unfortunately for Nuada, Grace did not intend to let him made amends to her for the things that had happened - not so long as he was getting paid for it. She maintained her composure remarkably well at the office that Monday, but the strain fried her fragile senses. When Nuada returned to the luxury apartment that night, it was to find her sitting on the end of the couch, silently staring at nothing, numb from everything that happened to her. Seeing Haldir over the weekend, and then being trapped in an office with Nuada all day had only brought home Lord Elrond's words, and the hole they tore through her heart was threatening to swallow her whole.

Watching Grace, Nuada was uncertain what to do. He never expected her to be there that night, assuming she'd go back to Sookie's and avoid him. He'd been very careful not to open his mind to Grace since all this started, and he knew nothing of her two visits to the marchwarden camp. Whatever happened, Grace was obviously devastated by it. Carefully, Nuada went to sit on the couch near her, hoping she would talk to him and wishing more than anything in his entire life he'd never let her walk out that damn door with Cairbre to start all this mess.

After fifteen minutes of silence, Grace simply leaned over and put her head on the fat arm of the couch, the tears tracing down her cheeks leaving little wet streaks on the leather as they ran down it. As he studied her, those strange salty tears drew his attention. He could remember the taste of her tears from Rivendell, and soon his mind wandered to memories of how the rest of her tasted too. Nuada suddenly found himself wondering if those tears were for him or Haldir, and it irked him to no end.

Determined to refocus his mind, Nuada left her alone, returning to an ancient book he was studying, but it was pointless. His mind refused to devote itself to anything while Grace sat on the couch and suffered. Going to the kitchen, he prepared a tray for her, hoping the Diet Dr. Pepper, lembas and two pain pills would offer her some comfort. He sat the tray beside her on the couch, then moved away to light the gas fireplace. Hopefully, she would enjoy the warmth, and it would encourage her to eat.

Grace didn't even glance toward it, just sat right there. Giving up, Nuada went to his study hoping if she was alone she might eat or drink something. It was well past midnight when he returned, disappointed to find things had changed very little. She'd put the untouched tray on the floor and was now curled up in a tight little ball. Her eyes were open, but the expression was the same – numb and sad.

Nuada frowned desperately. Grace wouldn't even take the pain medication he left on the tray for her, and he could easily tell from the way she groaned when she eased herself out of her chair that afternoon to go home, she was hurting like hell from something. Retrieving a blanket from one of the bedrooms, he carefully covered her with it and ran a gentle finger down her cheek.

"Erulissë, you must stop this. You are obviously upset with me and with Haldir. Please tell me what has happened . . . and you must eat something at least." His voice was pleading with her, and Grace couldn't care less. He could kiss her ass right under the main red light uptown in front of God and everybody for all she cared.

As Nuada stared at her, Grace simmered, despising the blue flickers that insisted on running under her skin every time she got close to him. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the scent of him, the strange blend of dark spices and leather exuding power and warmth, and it tore her heart apart. She wanted to be away from there, she wanted the peace of a quiet night sitting in the sand listening to the ocean waves as they lapped against the beach. Everything about this place disgusted her now, the very thought of her great-grandfather's money and the things it had bought made her nauseous.

Gently, he reached to take her hand in his, the long elegant fingers warm and comforting pressed against her. He raised it to his lips and placed a velvety kiss on the back of her hand. "I am very sorry that things are not as you want them to be Erulissë. I truly wish for us to be friends again. Please tell me what I might do for you, and I shall."

Grace said nothing, just stared at the flames. She wasn't ready to talk to him yet, didn't know when she would be as a matter of fact. He sat with her for the longest time, then finally rose to leave. Before he did, Nuada brushed her cheek with a delicate kiss and his hair fell over the skin of her shoulder, making her flesh jump when it did. She didn't want to talk to him, but he sure was hard to ignore. "Saes Erulissë, please let me know if you need anything." He told her quietly then left.

It was nearly four in the morning before Grace finally relented and admitted she did need something. The effects of Eric's blood were long gone now, and every bone in her body felt like it was broken. Just trying to get off the couch was as much as she could manage. Struggling to the kitchen, she got a cold drink from the fridge and went to the tray in the den, actually very pleased to see those pain pills laying there. She swallowed them instantly, and went to stare at the fire still burning in the fireplace behind her, fighting against the thoughts that were threatening to consume her.

The uncontrollable urge to go to Nuada was overwhelming her, and Grace had no idea why. It was almost as if she didn't have control of her faculties when she walked down that dark hall to his room. He was awake, staring at the ceiling when she walked in, his eyes hidden from her in the blackness of the room. Silently she went to stand beside the bed, wondering what he might do if he woke up and found her there, but unable to resist, she slid into the comfort of that completely overdone blue silk comforter and laid her head on one of those extremely soft pillows. She was still fully dressed, and made sure she didn't lay close enough to him for their bodies to touch, although her small dark hand found his. Just the feeling of his warmth brought welcome relief, and she closed her eyes, willing her tired mind and body to rest.

Nuada's heart warmed when her fingers twined with his, and he smiled softly when she pulled his hand to her face, and rested it there. He had called Grace to him, reached out to her with his mind, taking advantage of their bonded auras to beckon her. Now, he could feel her hot tears softly running across the sensitive skin of his fingers, and it was one of the strangest sensations he had ever experienced.

Wanting to feel her body against his, he gently pulled her toward him, but Grace instantly stiffened. "Please don't Nuada." She told him quietly, her voice broken in the stillness of the night. He stopped immediately, his hand still resting against her face as she laid there clinging to the one part of him she would allow herself to touch. Slowly, she rubbed her forehead against his hand, wishing more than anything she ever had that she'd never heard those damn words coming across the table at her from Lord Elrond.

Laying there in the darkness, Nuada was torn. He possessed the power to make Grace yield to him - and he knew it - but that wasn't how Nuada wanted Grace. He'd already made her come get in that bed with him, and she didn't even know it. No matter how powerful he was, Nuada would never allow himself to force Grace to do something against her will, although he honestly doubted how much she'd resist. Nuada wanted Grace to come to him willingly, to want him as much as he found himself wanting her. Realizing his mistake, he silently slid from the bed. He would sleep on the couch, leaving her in his bed if it comforted her somehow.

As silently as Nuada moved, Grace still knew when he left the room, and she was positive he didn't intend to return. She was glad he respected her wishes, but that wasn't entirely what she wanted either. It was less than ten minutes before Grace went to the den to find him. He was sitting in the middle of one of those obnoxious leather couches with a blanket casually tossed down beside him, staring at the fireplace. The flames were dancing in his eyes, and Grace couldn't help but see how sad he looked somehow sitting there.

Slipping to sit on the end of the couch where she'd been most of the night, Grace gently called to him. "Come here Nuada."

He glanced over at her, but didn't move in her direction, instead leaving the room to run a cold damp rag over his face, hoping it would clear his head. When he came back, he stood there looking at Grace uncertainly, a very deep frown on his face as he considered her. He had not expected Grace to follow him to the den.

"Please come here Nuada." Grace repeated softly, her voice kind and soothing as she spoke. "I promise I can make you feel better."

Suddenly feeling too tired to argue, Nuada reluctantly gave in and went to her. He sat down on the couch near her, and was surprised when Grace put her hands on his shoulders, gently guiding him back against her so his head was resting against her chest. Slowly and methodically, she began to rub his head and neck with her flickering blue fingers, working to release the tension he held within him.

Leaning against her, Nuada was a bundle of raw energy at first, but soon found he could not resist her touch. It was very much the way it had been when she washed his hair in the shower, and he had enjoyed that as much as he had enjoyed anything in forever. Slowly, he relaxed and let the stress and disappointment flow out of him. Stroking his hair and massaging his shoulders, Grace could feel his tension easing, and was happy she could do something to help the man who'd been trying so desperately to comfort her. He might be getting paid to be here, but that didn't mean he was happy about it either.

After some time, Nuada reached up to catch one of her hands, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it gently. "Thank you Erulissë," he told her quietly, squeezing her hand in his.

"You're very welcome," she answered, lowering her head to plant a soft kiss on top of his head, "and thank you for trying to take care of me tonight."

Grace went back to work massaging tired and tense muscles until Nuada found himself as relaxed as he'd ever been. Grace wasn't nearly as relaxed, and she could feel her heart race as his muscles rippled against her every time he breathed.

"Why are you doing this?" Nuada asked suddenly, and her answer surprised him.

"You have needs too Nuada. Everybody deserves to be cared for." Grace answered him softly, her southern drawl oddly comforting to his ears against the flickering firelight and the dark room. She continued to play in his hair, and was surprised when Nuada spoke again.

"I have never had anyone care for me." He whispered.

Her hands stilled as she considered what he said, and Grace suddenly felt very saddened by his words. "I really hope you don't mean that Nuada. Everyone deserves to have someone who cares for them." She told him quietly, praying his words were not true.

He said nothing when she resumed her therapies, but finally asked, "Who cares for you Erulissë?"

 _Not a damn soul who isn't getting paid for it!_ Went tearing though her mind, as Elrond's words came back to haunt her yet again, although she wasn't gonna say that out loud. "I do fine alone. You get used to it after a while." She finally answered.

Nuada sat up suddenly and turned to face her, his emerald green eyes as intent as she had ever seen them as he stared into hers. "How am I different than you? Do you not also deserve to be cared for?"

Grace simply stared back at him and shrugged. "I'm used to being alone."

Nuada looked at her uncertainly for a moment, then slid himself across the couch until he was right beside her. "What?" She asked, her eyes meeting the blazing green ones that were slowly devouring every inch of her.

"You do not have to be alone Erulissë," he told her softly, then he silently leaned over to plant the softest of kisses on her cheek.

You don't either, Grace suddenly found herself thinking, realizing her heart was in danger of beating clear out of her chest. Taking a deep breath, she made herself get control of the wild emotions that were threatening to make her do something she absolutely knew she'd regret come morning. When he pulled away from her cheek, Grace knew he would kiss her until she forgot everything if she'd just let him, but she wouldn't.

Nuada's face was so close to hers, Grace could feel him breathing on her face and she turned to look at him, two huge glowing grey eyes telling him no without saying one word. His face was filled with obvious longing, and Grace could tell there was a great struggle being fought within the man sitting next to her on that couch. He lingered for the longest moment, then kissed her softly on the forehead.

"As you wish Erulissë," he whispered. Ever so gently he pulled her against him, cradling her to his chest as he tucked the blanket around her. Relieved that he didn't press for more, Grace allowed herself to enjoy being close to him and snuggled against his chest. The pain pills were helping her broken body and she closed her eyes as the wonderful comforting sound of his heartbeat filled her ears. His very touch soothed her wounded soul, and she didn't even know it when his hand passed over her face willing her to sleep peacefully.

Had Grace been awake and looking at Nuada, she would have seen the strange glowing eyes of the creature that held her, and she would have realized just how cared for she actually was.

***************************************

The following night Grace reluctantly slipped her Escalade into the front parking lot of Fangtasia, refusing to park in the back because she didn't want to face that Corvette before delivering her carefully preplanned apology. She would have rather walked over hot coals in Hell than apologize to anybody for anything, and having to face Eric after wrestling with him on the hood of his precious car was a new low, even for her.

Grace's temper and her mouth had gotten her in situations before, but this was certainly a new one. She had to apologize to not one, but two vampires tonight, and it was both terrifying and just outright annoying. Hating what she had to do, Grace had spent all evening procrastinating. She stayed late in the office then drove around aimlessly for the longest time before finally heading to the bar. Even after their night together on the couch, being trapped in the office all day with Nuada had torn her nerves apart, and on top of the bruises Haldir inflicted when he slammed her into that tree she felt like shit before she even walked inside.

Pam was near the door as usual, this time dressed in a filmy black floor length gown that she actually looked quite striking in. "You made my night." She told Grace with a wicked smile as she came close to the door. "I've never wanted a video camera before, but I actually bought one in case you ever do that again." Grace gave her a disapproving frown, silently thanking the stars above that event wasn't captured on tape!

"You want to get drunk and try it again?" Pam asked expectantly, almost as if she was hoping the answer was going to be yes.

Grace's crossed arms and cold stare told her she most certainly was not, and her clothes should have already told her she wasn't there for partying anyway. Those knee length jean shorts and long sleeve black Corona t-shirt weren't exactly go out and party clothes, not for Shreveport anyway. "Eric here?" she asked pointedly, knowing he was because Sookie was working that night.

Pam looked over her carefully, studying every inch of the strange human woman standing in front of her. "You came to apologize didn't you?" Grace nodded in disgust, her expression telling Pam how thrilled she was about that, and Pam gave her quick wink. "Don't hurt yourself. Niall already paid Eric for new tires and shocks he didn't need. Personally I'd save my breath, but you humans insist on being so polite! I'll get him for you." As she started to walk away, Pam glanced back over her shoulder. "You gonna apologize to Logan too?" Grace just frowned back at her.

Actually all of Pam's information made Grace frown, from the "Niall paid Eric" part right up to the Logan apology. Grace had only been to Fangtasia three times and she damn near got killed every single time. What if Logan decided he wanted to jump on her in revenge for jumping on him? It was gonna be pretty hard to apologize to Logan anyway. Grace was so mad and out of her mind the night she attacked him, she honestly didn't know what the vampire looked like!

With as much enthusiasm as a death row inmate, Grace made her way to the bar, carefully easing her bruised body onto a bar stool before ordering a vodka double. Her head was already about to explode, and the pounding music sure didn't help. Needless to say, she wasn't overly impressed when a chunk of blonde vampire slid himself onto the seat beside hers and started staring at her intently. Grace tried very, very hard not to stare back, but it was impossible because at first she honestly thought it was Nuada.

The vampire was casually leaning against the heavy wood railing the circled the bar, and his eyes weren't budging from her, so after a few minutes of very intense scrutiny, Grace gave up and turned around to face him. "Can I help you?" she asked with more than a little sarcasm wrapping around that southern drawl.

"Well that depends," he answered in a voice as soft as falling rain, "are you going to try to choke me again?"

Grace damn near snotted that vodka drink, because it was an OSM moment of monumental proportions. Her brain was screaming "Holy Shit!" with everything it had, and every bit of color drained right out of her face. Grace was suddenly very, very glad she put makeup on that day because if not, she would have been as pale as he was. Glancing beside her, Grace knew if the vampire on that stool beside her was Logan, she did lose her mind last Friday night because not only had she jumped on a male vampire big enough to kill her with one hand, he was so freaking good looking he'd take your breath away.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember you." Grace told him quietly, praying her voice wasn't quivering the way her insides were. And I would certainly remember your fine ass, she thought to herself as she ran her eyes over every inch of the vampire sitting less than a foot from her. It was a very pleasant trip because Logan had straight blonde hair that fell way past his shoulders very much like Nuada's, a beautiful finely boned face with high cheekbones and gentle dark green eyes that were almost black. He was obviously tall and lean, and he was dressed in a solid black ensemble that was just too easy on the eyes. Looking over him, Grace knew she would have never forgotten that if she'd been sane.

Her revelation seemed to humor him deeply, because that slight lift at his mouth increased to a soft smile. "Well, please let me introduce myself. I'm Logan and I'm definitely the one you . . . introduced yourself to last Friday night." He was taking in every inch of Grace too, and while she might be mostly human, he already knew she was anything but. She had the most unique smell he'd ever picked up on, and he definitely wanted to get to know her better.

Grace couldn't help her own slight smile at his choice of words, but the way he was looking at her was certainly enough to erase it, because he was as intently focused on her as anyone ever had been. Her heart was refusing to slow down, and Grace knew she'd better apologize and run. "Well Logan, I'm Grace. Please let me apologize for introducing myself the way I did last Friday night. I promise I won't ever do it again." She slammed back that vodka drink as she finished talking, desperately needing the moral support it was giving her and she was ready to bolt for the door. Eric could just wait.

Logan could tell Grace was scared of him, and he thought it was the funniest damn thing. Only a few nights before, she tackled him and tried to choke him with her bare hands, and now that she was sitting beside him on a stool she was terrified of him. "I'm afraid I can't accept your apology." He told her seriously. He'd swallowed that smile, and his cold vampire face was flat as stone as he looked at her. "I won't accept it unless you agree to go to dinner with me."

Grace almost choked on the drink that time, and although her blood seemed to have already frozen in her veins, her heart almost jumped clean out of her chest. She was stunned, and suddenly very aware of the slight blush creeping across her face at being asked out on a date by a damn vampire. "I don't think so." She finally managed to answer, and she had to fight for breath to get that out.

That wasn't the only affect his words had because Logan couldn't help but notice the tiniest blue flicker traced over her skin too, and he wondered if he was upsetting her. "You don't like vampires very much do you Grace?" He asked suddenly, and Grace felt herself get weak, positive this conversation was fixing to deteriorate rapidly.

Grace looked over Logan one more time, wishing she knew what he really wanted from her. Vampires were almost impossible to read, and she had no idea how to answer that question, other than honestly. "Nothing personal Logan, but no, ya'll aren't my favorites." Grace told him flatly, praying silently for all she was worth that he didn't snatch her off that stool, because she was sure that answer was gonna piss him off.

Logan didn't get angry. He actually smiled at Grace slightly, impressed that she chose to answer him honestly instead of making up some lame lie like most humans would have. "Then why are you in a vampire bar?" He asked softly, his eyes full of curiosity as they ran over her face, and Grace got the distinct impression he was trying to flirt with her.

Carefully sitting her glass on the bar, Grace could feel the irritation in her beginning to boil over. Flirting vampires were definitely not what she came here for tonight, good looking or not. "See here Logan," her soft southern drawl told him, "Eric is a friend of mine, and Sookie is my cousin. I came here to apologize to him, and to you. You can like it or you can leave it, but there is no way in hell I'm going to dinner with you."

Logan's eyes widened in surprise at her words. There weren't very many humans who'd talk to him that way, but then there weren't many humans who'd try to choke him either – especially not a woman! He looked at Grace oddly. She was honest if she wasn't anything else, and he could tell he'd gotten under her skin. Grace was obviously getting pissed off, but it was much better than seeing her scared, and Logan liked it. Watching the bartender place another drink in front of Grace, he remained silent until they walked away again. "At least tell me why you won't go to dinner with me. Why don't like vampires Grace?" He was baiting her, daring her to answer him.

Normally Grace would have already told him to go screw himself, but for some reason she didn't. Turning the far side of her neck to him, Grace pulled her t-shirt down to reveal the huge scar left from her attack. "Like it?" she asked sarcastically, her glare telling him how much she thought of it. "And if I did go to dinner with you, what would you be having? Me?"

Logan actually began to chuckle softly when Grace said that, but his eyes told her he thought that scar on her neck was anything but funny. He'd heard about the human who was attacked in the parking lot several months ago, now he knew who she was. "Now I'm afraid you must accept my apology," he told her politely, as his eyes danced with humor, "I thought human women liked being taken out to dinner. I would gladly take you wherever you would like to go . . . the theater perhaps?"

Grace was looking at Logan like he'd lost his mind, and she positive she'd lost hers for being stupid enough to come there that night. The idea of being asked out on a date by a vampire was a new one to say the very least, and it was taking her brain a minute to catch up. Thankfully, Eric walked up about that time, and Grace was so happy to see him she would have gladly jumped back into his arms and wrapped her legs around him again!

"Hello dead man," Grace said in her typical sarcastic drawl, "hope I'm not interrupting you."

Eric smiled softly in reply. Grace would never be an interruption to Eric - not after making him so happy by helping him realize the dream of building the perfect house for the woman he loved. He'd known Grace would want to apologize, but he assumed she'd just call and add it into one of her conversations about the house. Eric was very surprised to see she'd made the effort to come in Fangtasia and do it personally, and he was even more shocked to see Logan chatting her up at the bar.

"Hello Grace." He told her sweetly as his eyes slid over her and then to Logan and back again. "Looks like I'm the one interrupting."

Logan took the initiative to answer that comment, smooth as silk with his reply. "I was just inviting Grace to accompany me to the theater. She hasn't answered me yet."

As frozen as Eric's face was most of the time, that got a reaction from him, and his eyebrows literally flew up over his eyes in surprise. He looked at Grace with a strange mix of curiosity and surprise on his face, wondering just what she intended to tell him. Grace didn't intend to tell Logan anything, and she gingerly slid her bruised body right off that barstool as if it had been greased.

"We need to talk." She told Eric firmly before turning to the gorgeous thing who'd been sitting beside her. "Logan if you'll please excuse me, I'll catch up with you before I leave." Logan nodded to her politely, positive she wouldn't, and watched Eric lead her to his office and close the door. He wondered what was so special about the strange woman he'd just been sitting beside, and he made up his mind he was going to find out.

Easing carefully down into a chair, Grace waited for Eric to close the door and take up his usual spot on the other side of his huge desk with his feet propped up on the side, before she said anything. They both remembered the last time Grace sat on the other side of that desk. It was the night she healed the girl and killed the vampire in the warehouse. He didn't say a word, knowing that she would remember, and hoping she wasn't going to get upset because of it.

It did upset Grace, and it took her a minute to get control of her emotions before she could say anything. "I came to apologize." She told him firmly, crossing her arms across her chest as she stared at him. "Although if I understood Pam earlier, you've already gotten paid for what I didn't do to your car." Her expression told Eric she wasn't impressed with is extortion of her great-grandfather, and he couldn't help that little wicked smile she got in return.

"You're worth it," Eric told her in a very arrogant tone, "and I'm gonna need new tires and shocks at some point."

"I'm sure you are," Grace grated out sarcastically, "and speaking of my great-grandfather paying people, I want you tell me what you know about Nuada. I understand he's getting quite a bit of Lord Niall's money in exchange for satisfying my needs." She bit out those last words, sickened by the very sound of them, and Eric could tell how much they hurt her.

Eric couldn't help but frown at Grace's question. He'd already been grilled by Sookie about this very subject, and he honestly didn't know what to tell Grace. Nuada was his friend, but that was certainly not something they'd ever discussed.

"I don't know one thing about Nuada's relationship with Lord Niall," Eric told her firmly, "but I'm positive he doesn't stay with you for the money." Sookie already told Eric how upset Grace was by what Lord Elrond told her, and seeing that sad expression on Grace's face, he knew it was true.

"Well, I'm just curious if he got a bonus for fucking me, or was that for free?" Grace whispered, her voice broken in the quiet stillness of the office, the first tear sliding down her cheek as she dropped her eyes from Eric's to study the carpet in his office.

That tear ate Eric up, and he knew Grace was a lot more upset by what she'd been told than Sookie realized. Watching her sit there, he could clearly remember how happy Grace looked the night he and Sookie visited the apartment and Grace curled up with Nuada on that couch. Slipping his feet off the desk, he leaned over it to stare right in her face, willing her to listen to his words. "I think you'd be better off if you just forget what Lord Elrond told you." He told her firmly.

Continuing to stare at her, a very terrible thing occurred to Eric. He already knew how hot tempered Grace was, and he knew how devious any hurt or angry woman could be. "Are you going to go out with Logan?" he asked suddenly, knowing it would offer her the perfect revenge and hoping her answer would be no.

Grace didn't say anything for a long moment, then slowly pulled her stiff body up from the chair. "I am really sorry about the other night Eric, I'm glad you stopped me."

She took a deep breath, her strained expression telling Eric how unhappy she really was. "As for Nuada, I'm positive he can bite my ass, and as for Logan, I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Eric's face was creased into a deep frown as he watched the attractive young human woman leave his office. Grace needed to be very careful of Logan, and he couldn't imagine what Nuada's reaction would be if she went on a date with anyone – much less a vampire. He also knew something very bad happened to Grace while she was with Haldir – he could tell from the way she was moving she was hurt, he just didn't know how bad. Reaching for the phone, he decided to call his friend. It was time for them to have a little heart to heart about the cousins they both cared so much about.

On the other side of that office door, Grace slowly headed through the bar toward the front entrance, not the least bit surprised to find Logan suddenly beside her again. "May I walk you to your car?" that soft voice asked as he silently fell into step beside her.

"Truck." Grace told him firmly, glancing up at the huge blonde vampire now towering over her. "It's a truck. I don't ride in cars."

Logan couldn't hide his curiosity as he escorted her out the front entrance, politely holding the door for her as she went through. When they actually came to stand beside the huge black Escalade shimmering under the soft lights of the parking lot, Logan couldn't hide his surprise or his smile either. "Why such a large vehicle for such a small person?" He asked, appreciating the striking custom details of the Cadillac as he looked around it.

"Long story." Grace told him as she unlocked the door and gingerly climbed inside.

"I'd love to hear it one day." He countered smoothly as he carefully checked out the interior, and Grace suddenly realized that good looking blonde vampire had an answer for everything.

Easing back in the seat, Grace let her eyes wander over him again. It was a lot easier to look at him sitting up in the high truck, because their heads were pretty much level now, and he was one damn fine looking man even if he was dead. Logan was still watching her intently, and Grace knew he wanted her to accept his invitation. "Tell you what Logan," Grace finally drawled out, "I've got as much going on right now as I can handle, and I'm fixing to move in a week or so. Give me your number, and when things settle down I'll call you."

Logan couldn't believe he'd managed to get that much cooperation out of Grace, and a pleasant look of surprise came over his face when she produced a pen and a piece of paper. He obligingly wrote down his name and number, and handed it back to her with a smile. "We're not all like that Grace, I promise." Logan told her, suddenly serious as his dark green eyes got a better look at the scars on her neck under the bright glow of the truck's interior light.

"I know that." Grace answered as she tucked the paper and pen into her purse. "If ya'll were, I'd be dead instead of sitting here right now."

Logan looked at her oddly, knowing there was quite a story behind that comment too, hoping maybe he'd hear it one day too. " And am I lucky enough to get your number as well, or do I simply have to wait?" that beautiful voice asked, his eyes telling her he would very much like it if he did.

Something in the far back of Grace's mind warned her not to give Logan her phone number, so she didn't, simply giving him a coy smile before telling him goodnight and slamming the truck door. He took her mild rejection gracefully, waving politely to her as she pulled away, returning to the luxury flat and the strange life that was hers.

It took about twenty minutes to get to the apartment from Fangtasia, and by now it was nearly midnight, time for Sookie to be getting off work. Grace called her and they chatted during the drive home. Sookie was tired, exhausted from all the Christmas parties, and like Grace would be very happy with Christmas was over. Grace was still talking away on her cell phone when she opened the huge carved wooden front door. As soon as she saw Nuada's face, she knew she needed to hang up right then. "I gotta go." Grace said quickly, not even telling Sookie goodbye before she snapped the phone shut.

Nuada looked like a ghost sitting in that huge leather club chair by the fireplace. He didn't have one ounce of color in his face, and Grace wondered if someone had died. Not even caring how upset she was with him, she immediately tossed her purse on the couch and went to him, gingerly kneeling in front of him as her huge grey eyes desperately searched his face for some clue what had happened. "Nuada, what's wrong?" she demanded, her concern genuine for the man she cared so much for.

"Is that what you think of me Erulissë? That I receive payment to use your body for my pleasures?" his voice was barely above a whisper, raw with pain as tortured green eyes shining with unshed tears looked over her face, and Grace knew instantly Eric had called him after she left his office.

Grace quickly drug herself off the floor and away from Nuada, knowing this could easily turn into an all out war between them. "Eric needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut." She growled out softly, her eyes and voice hard as rock in the stillness of the room.

"Obviously Mellon nín is the only not the one who needs to keep their mouth shut." He answered viciously, his voice hoarse and strained as he continued to study Grace in the flickering firelight. "Who would tell you such a thing? And is this the reason you came to Fangtasia Friday night? Why you refuse to let me kiss you?" Nuada's eyes were locked on Grace's face, studying her expression, considering her eyes, desperate for answers, completely devastated by the conversation he'd had with Eric less than an hour before.

"Answer my questions Erulissë . . . is this what you think of me?" he demanded.

Standing in that ridiculously overdone room surrounded by everything her great-grandfather had bought, the pain Grace felt since she got up from that restaurant table poured out of her like a river as she met his tortured stare. The searing heat of anger and betrayal overran Nuada as he watched Grace stand there, framed by the flames of the fireplace behind her, burnt and destroyed as she looked back at him.

He rose from the chair and went to her, reaching to touch her face, desperate to understand what had happened to make her feel this way about him. Unfortunately, when his hand got close to Grace, she actually recoiled from him, shying away from his hand, closing her eyes as if he would harm her with his very touch.

Nuada froze, not wanting to believe what he just saw. Grace had stirred emotions in Nuada that had long been forgotten. He was enamored with her, he yearned to feel that odd contentment he'd felt when he held her again, and he desperately wanted that human body to comfort his ancient soul once more. Nuada never asked to be involved in this strange situation either, and when Grace rejected him in such a way, it tore a hole in his heart even worse than hers. He felt his very soul go cold as he immediately stepped back from her.

"Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'" he whispered softly, then he was gone.


	22. Possum Pricks and Sidekicks

Chapter 22 – Possum Pricks and Sidekicks

"You are the lowest form of life on earth, and you aren't even alive!" Grace hissed into that deep magenta Razor cell phone, "and let me just tell you what I think about you and your fucking house!"

Poor Eric. That vampire felt like there was a weedeater loose in his brain. After Nuada left Grace, she'd gotten furious, and she blamed Eric Northman. She blamed him hands down for calling Nuada and running his mouth, and in typical Grace form, she called to tell him about it too. How dare he call Nuada and tell him what she'd shared with him in confidence? How dare he tell Nuada something that would hurt him that way?

Eric tried desperately to talk back to Grace, but he never got in one word. A starved pit bull couldn't have cleaned a t-bone steak any better than Grace chewed his ass, and before she was done, she'd told him explicitly where he could put every board, shingle, and nail of that entire new house he was building. Grace cursed and ranted for a good fifteen minutes, and Eric just put it on speaker phone so his ear wouldn't burn. He understood most of what she told him, but there were a few southern expressions in there he wasn't quite sure about - although the old vampire was positive being told he was less desirable that a pregnant possum's ass was not a compliment.

Grace finished up by telling him she never intended to touch another thing regarding his house, and that if Haldir hadn't thrown her into a tree, she'd be standing in that parking lot behind Fangtasia at that very moment tearing the tires and shocks off that Corvette for real so he'd actually need the money he extorted from her great-grandfather - both of which captured Eric's undivided attention – and when the welcome silence of a dead line met his ears, he didn't know if he was glad, sad or just outright concerned.

Eric wasn't the least bit worried about her car threats. Grace wasn't the type to maliciously destroy anything, and even if she did, he knew Lord Niall would gladly fix it – but the house threat was something else entirely. He desperately wanted Grace to see that project through to completion because she was doing such a damn fine job and he knew it was going to thrill Sookie Stackhouse to the very pits of her beautiful little soul . . . and that wasn't all. Not only would Eric gladly kiss her little southern ass to get that house finished, the very last thing he wanted was Grace mad at him right now, because the vampire needed a huge favor from Grace she wasn't aware of yet, and that favor meant more to him that anything in the entire world.

Genuinely frustrated, Eric sat there contemplating what it would take to return him to her good graces, but he quickly found himself more concerned about her physical state than her emotional one. That steel trap he called a mind had seized on her comment about "Haldir and the tree" and he'd already been wondering about the slow and painful way Grace moved when she was in his office earlier . . . obviously, the girl was hurt and that damned elf was the one who hurt her. Jerking his feet off the desk, Eric slammed his fist into it and retched out a string of curses, but as concerned as he might be, it paled in comparison to Nuada because Mr. Disappearing Act had also been listening to every word Grace said.

When Nuada popped himself out of the den, he traced himself directly into his friend and confidant's office at Fangtasia, and the two good buddies had been sitting there mulling things over ever since, and in true conspiring friend form, when Grace's number showed up on his phone, Eric put the Blackberry on speaker. Nuada had soaked up every slow southern syllable of what Grace screamed through it, and he'd listened very carefully. His feelings might be hurt, but Nuada had no doubts after listening to that speech he was indeed cared for, and he was cared for fiercely by that delicious little human woman he wanted so badly. He was secretly thrilled, but he agreed with Eric - that comment about Haldir was an attention getter, and he snatched himself out of that leather chair with every intention of getting the story behind it.

****************************

When Grace finished tearing Eric's ass apart on the phone, she was so incensed she didn't know what to do. Her mind and her body felt broken, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to be away from that place . . . not to be surrounded by the tainted things that her great-grandfather bought and forced on her . . . not to be surrounded by things that reminded her of the man she cared about who was being paid to stay with her.

It was less than five minutes later when her Escalade squealed away from the luxury apartment building. Her mind was racing, but Grace had enough self control to point that Cadillac away from Fangtasia., determined there would be no repeat of Friday night's fiasco. Glancing to the green numbers on the radio, Grace knew it was nearly midnight and too late to go to Bon Temps. Sookie had enough going on with work, and while Grace knew she wouldn't mind the interruption, she felt too guilty to disturb her sleep so out of ideas, she made her way to the little white house on the other side of town, pulling onto the concrete drive with a strange feeling of sadness and apprehension.

Her key turned the lock – something Grace still found to be unbelievably peculiar – and she hesitantly stepped inside. The painters weren't nearly finished yet, and the house was in a complete state of disrepair, dropcloths and paint cans everywhere. It was chaotic and somewhat depressing, and as Grace walked through the empty hollowness of half painted rooms, the house seemed to look very much like she felt, reflecting the empty feeling in her soul. Slipping to sit on the dusty hardwood floor of what was to be her bedroom, Grace wondered how she ever got to be in such a strange position, and what it would take to make things with Nuada right again.

Suddenly realizing there was only one creature alive who could answer her questions and offer her the comfort she so desperately needed, Grace pulled the phone out of her pocket again. It was a number she'd never dialed before, and the strange voice on the other end noted her request, then the line went dead again. Huddled in the darkness, the silence of the night was deafening, the coldness of a winter night throwing gooseflesh down her back and numbing her fingers while she waited, but when Grace heard the familiar pop of a fairy entering the room, she knew her great-grandfather had answered her call.

Stepping silently across the room, Lord Niall came to stand over Grace, instantly feeling the sadness and despair rolling off her discouraged form. "My dearest little one . . . what has happened to you, child? Tell me why you sit in this filthy place so sad and broken this night."

Grace's huge grey eyes brimmed with tears when she glanced up to her great-grandfather's face, completely overcome by what Lord Elrond told her so many days before, and for the terrible consequences that had followed. "I need you to make me understand some things. Make me understand why you have to pay Nuada to stay with me," she whispered, her voice small and broken in the loud emptiness of the room, "then tell me . . . does he get extra for pretending he cares about me? Does he get a bonus for sleeping with me too?"

Legitimately surprised, Niall's face creased in confusion and instantly he was searching her mind. It quickly revealed that a visit from his meddling younger brother precluded the emotional turmoil she was suffering, and as he plundered her thoughts further, he was devastated by what he found, stunned by the pain and anger Lord Elrond's words stirred within Grace – and by what went on between her and Haldir at that marchwarden camp. Now he knew why she went to Fangtasia, and now he knew what Grace thought of both Nuada and himself.

The Fairy Lord's anger was palpable as he struggled for something to say, his intense sea green stare tracking the tear sneaking down her cheek – a tear that threatened to drown him. Niall Brigant might have a vicious streak in him as wide as a river, but it certainly did not apply to his descendants. Never had he intended for Grace to know that Nuada was being compensated for her guardianship. Business interests were private, and he wouldn't have allowed that knowledge to hurt her feelings for anything. She need only know that he loved her and intended to see that she was safe at all times . . . now as to Nuada bedding her, Lord Niall was not aware such an event had transpired between them, but coupled with what Elrond told her, he could easily surmise how she'd come her most unpleasant conclusions.

Gently, he reached a hand out to her. "Come to me, child," he beckoned Grace, willing her to get up off that filthy floor and stand with him.

Accepting his hand, Grace pulled her painful body off the floor, sore and stiff from sitting in the cold as she came to stand beside the powerful creature who was the root of the torment she endured. Her great-grandfather's mental touch was tender and soothing as he willed Grace to let go of the anger she held toward him, but his hands were insistent as they began to explore her, the fairy wanting more information as to the things he saw in her thoughts. Carefully he tilted her head back, a disturbed gaze examining her face, studying the tears now trickling readily down her face and the faint bruises marring her neck. The corners his mouth twitched in irritation, but his voice was as gentle as the softest summer breeze when Lord Niall spoke, his love carefully wrapping his words so her tormented mind would accept them.

"There is much involved with taking care of you my dearest child, and please do not begrudge me for it. I would gladly spend any amount to ensure your happiness, but never think that money could buy the affections of your guardian. You must give Nuada more credit. My . . ." he paused, collecting himself for a moment, then continued. "Nuada is many things, but he is neither cruel nor taken to the use of others. If he holds affections for you, I have no doubt they are both genuine and completely his own. Now, you will worry about these things no longer! This house will be ready soon enough, but for now you will leave this place and return to the apartment I have prepared for you. And I want you to rest easy child . . . All will be well, for I promise I shall personally take care of these things that bother you so."

Lord Niall's lips were like old velvet when he gently kissed her forehead, and the way he said that word promise left little doubt in Grace's mind her great-grandfather was extremely serious about that statement. He then took his beautiful hands and ever so meticulously wiped every tear from her face, finally pulling her into his ancient arms. "Now, Little One . . . you must promise me that you will not to let the words of others affect you so. Never doubt my love for you again," he told her firmly.

Resting in the arms of the magnificent creature who was her great-grandfather, Grace felt surprisingly better, and comfortable enough to ask yet another question she desperately wanted answered. "Great-grandfather, please tell me what something means," she asked. "What does Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au' mean?"

Grace butchered the pronunciation, but it was close enough for him to understand, and a beautiful smile touched his face as he answered, knowing who she heard the beautiful elven sentiment from. "My heart shall weep until it sees thee again," he revealed pleasantly, giving her another gentle and understanding hug to go along with that revealing translation, then with a knowing wink, he was gone.

After her great-grandfather departed, Grace began wandering the peaceful stillness of the house, carefully considering his words and actions. It was becoming obvious that Lord Elrond and Lord Niall did not agree about a number of things – first and foremost her – but she was hard pressed to say that Lord Niall did not care for her. His concern showed in his face, his voice, even his touch . . . and as she shifted to yet another cold, empty room, she thought of another creatures' face and voice and touch . . . Judging from that elf speak translation and Nuada's reaction to Eric's phone call, she was more than hard pressed to believe her guardian did not care for her either – matter of fact, she was positive Nuada was far more interested in her well being that she was giving him credit for.

Locking the house, Grace climbed back into her truck, cutting on the seat warmer and riding around aimlessly as she waited for her teeth to stop chattering and her butt to thaw out while working up the courage to return to the luxury flat. She wondered if it would still be deserted when she returned, but that was quickly remedied when a sleek red Corvette slipped into the parking space beside her only seconds after she pulled up. Every ounce of anger she felt earlier returned with a vengeance when she jerked that truck door open, sliding from her toasty seat to be immediately confronted by the tall lean form that was Eric Northman.

"Grace," he asked, "are you alright?"

Instantly irritated, Grace slapped her hands on her hips and glared back at him. "Don't I look alright?" She drawled out sarcastically, wondering what the hell he wanted with her. That damn vampire had caused enough problems for her already this night!

Eric's eyes were narrowed and fairly cold as they ran over her standing in the dim lights of the parking lot. "Where have you been?" His low voice demanded, silently wondering if she'd already snuck off with Logan, and knowing he was going to strangle her if she did.

"I went for a ride," Grace grated out, "and I don't seem to recall that I answer to your sorry dead ass."

"Where the hell have you been and don't make me ask you again!" he demanded angrily. He took a threatening step closer, only to find his question answered as the fairy smell just falling off her overtook him. He could be around Lord Niall because the Fairy Lord possessed the power to complete mask his essence, but when he hugged Grace it transferred all over her, and Eric's fangs slid over his lips instantly.

Grace shifted her hands off her hips to cross over her chest as she glared up at the vampire who was nearly twice her size. "Fuck you and your fangs, Eric! You're just looking for something else to go tattle back to Nuada . . . but you'd be better off praying to those Viking Gods of yours he comes back after what you blabbed back to him earlier, because if he doesn't, I'm gonna make you hate me!" Her eyes had nearly turned black, and they were locked on his arrogant vampire ass like she genuinely did want to make him hate her, although she did intentionally slip a quick little threatening glance toward that gleaming Corvette just as a reminder.

"Don't you dare!" he hissed.

"Children please!"

Eric glanced behind Grace toward the owner of that all too familiar voice, and Grace froze. She knew exactly who was standing behind her, and he'd been there the entire time. This was an obvious set up of monumental proportions!

"Possum prick and his sidekick . . . why am I not surprised?" Grace ground out sarcastically, turning back to her truck with every intention of leaving again.

"Stop," Nuada commanded loudly, causing Grace to hesitate. Of all the things she wanted, a fight with Nuada was absolutely not it. "Do not leave Erulissë, please," he added in a softer tone, although Grace could tell from the way he bit out that word please it was about to choke him.

"Ya'll can both bite my ass," she snorted in disgust, refusing to even look at him as she headed for the elevator. The two idiots could stand in the cold and talk all night, but she sure as hell wasn't going to. Walking around that damn house had chilled her to the bone, and she'd had enough drama for one night.

Heading into the apartment, she stowed her purse in the bedroom, then went to the bathroom to run a cold rag over her face. She was thrilled to death Nuada was back, but her heart was beating so hard, she wondered if it would explode – something that was exacerbating her pounding headache and the worst backache imaginable. Knowing she couldn't take a pain pill on an empty stomach, Grace reluctantly went to dig in the refrigerator for a drink and maybe a quick piece of fruit, hoping the two friends would go occupy themselves in the gym downstairs for a while and leave her alone.

That was not to be the case, however, and Grace found herself faced by the intense glare of two sets of eyes that looked like they were going to tear her ass apart when she closed that refrigerator door. Suddenly, she was wishing more than anything else she could sink right through that gleaming dark hardwood floor and appear in that gym herself . . . because that damn ball would be welcome torture compared to this!

"Something you want to tell us about Grace?" Eric insisted smoothly, still enamored by the smell coming off her.

The vampire was parked on one side of the kitchen island, while Nuada was on the other, and Grace knew her ass was now officially cornered. She had a smaller chance of getting out of that kitchen without talking than a snowball in hell. The huge refrigerator she was backed up against wasn't giving an inch, and Grace knew she had absolutely no way out – it was flight or fight, and since flight wasn't an option, it was gonna be fight.

Smacking a Diet Dr. Pepper and a pear down on the counter, Grace once again crossed her arms across her chest to stare back at Eric defiantly. "Nope, sure don't," she snapped, "but if you don't suck in those fangs and stop sniffing in my direction, you're sure gonna have something to tell your friends."

"Erulissë, stop this sniping and tell us what happened when you were in the elven realm last. Saes, please we are only concerned about you," Nuada told her carefully, hoping Grace would simply tell them what her earlier comment on the telephone was referring to.

Lured by his soothing voice, Grace slid her defiant glare from Eric to Nuada, surprised to find a poisonous expression on his face and smoldering flames rolling in the depths of his eyes. "That is none of your business," she told him firmly, but she sure shouldn't have, because that creature was pissed.

This was not Nuada and Eric's first trip to that apartment tonight – it was their second. That Corvette had been no more than a fiery streak when it tore away from Fangtasia after Grace hung up on Eric, but they found nothing more than an empty parking lot, and when Nuada climbed out and tried to lock onto Grace, he got a whole lot more of absolutely nothing. Now normally, Nuada could have found Grace anywhere, anytime, but after being with Lord Niall she was smothered in his masked essence. He couldn't lock onto squat, and the determined duo had been looking for her for over two hours – even making a quick trip to Bon Temps to scope out Sookie's house – and Nuada's patience had waned dramatically. Her guardian intended to find out about Haldir and that tree comment, and he intended to find out right then.

Before Grace could draw another breath, she had Nuada's entire body pressed against hers, sandwiching her between a wall of rock hard muscle and a wall of stainless steel. "Tell me what Haldir of Lórien did to you, or I swear Erulissë, I will rip it from your very soul!" Nuada spat at her, the venom in his voice telling Grace he was absolutely serious, and for the first time ever, she was scared of him – and for good reason – because without another word, Nuada dragged Grace into his arms, and she barely managed to pass an "I am going to kill you later" glare over his shoulder toward Eric as Nuada clamped his hands around her face.

His typically piercing green eyes had turned a frightening vermillion, his gaze so intent Grace felt like he was looking at her soul, and within seconds the blue flames consumed her, their auras binding, their minds bonded together as one. Nuada was always so gentle with Grace, but not tonight – the merciless guardian didn't skim her thoughts, he devoured her mind, and Grace had no choice but to relent, silently telling Nuada every single thing he wanted to know.

Eric was standing so close the arcing flames hit him as well, and it was like nothing that thousand year old vampire had ever experienced. There was no way to describe how it felt for someone to inject their memories into your mind, and he suddenly wondered if that was how Sookie felt all the time. He could clearly feel everything Nuada was pulling from her - Grace's mental anguish, the pain her body was in, and every touch that had crossed her flesh. When Nuada finally released her mind, Eric knew everything they did, and he was stunned. He completely understood why Grace lost her temper earlier on the telephone – she'd been through enough in the past two weeks to kill most people.

Unfortunately, Nuada was not stunned, nor was he finished. The words "being paid handsomely for satisfying her needs" were burned into Grace's brain as clearly as if they'd been branded there, but as bad as that was, Nuada now he knew every single detail of her two visits to that marchwarden camp. He could literally feel Grace being slapped down by Haldir. He felt her body sink into the dirt when the elf tackled her, the bark biting her back when he slammed her into the tree, the air moving against her hair when that elven battle blade slammed into the wood by her face . . . but worst of all, Nuada knew the noble marchwarden general had been anything but. Haldir had abandoned every elven standard of morality, refusing to remove himself from a volatile situation and taking full advantage of her vampire blood induced state to fuck her stupid.

The flames of hell didn't burn hotter than his temper flared, and when those ten pale fingers unwrapped themselves from around her face, the expression on his was enough to tell Grace she dare not argue when he demanded she take off that Corona t-shirt. Grace fought every painful ache as she pulled that damn top off, replacing the need to groan and grimace with a plentiful array of "fuck off" glares passed to Eric, the most venomous of which he received when Nuada plucked it from her hand and tossed it onto the kitchen counter.

Left standing there in her bra and shorts, Grace could do nothing but breathe and grind her teeth as Nuada began to examine her, his hands firm and demanding as he lifted her chin, slowly inspecting the faint bruises Eric's hands left on her throat. They then slid to her shoulders where Eric's fingers and Haldir's knees had rested Friday night, brushing over her collar bone and the flat of her stomach where she had been held back, turning her bruised wrists over as his now bright crimson eyes considered them.

The front was not nearly so bad, but Grace resisted when Nuada attempted to turn her body away from him, knowing when Haldir slammed her body into that tree, it didn't give one bit, and her back was covered in horrible marbled bruises. "Nuada, don't do this please," she reasoned, but her words were wasted.

"Turn, or I will turn you," he growled, his voice guttural, his eyes burning like coal embers.

Nuada was genuinely frightening her, but Grace didn't move, knowing this would make it so very much worse, but true to his word, Nuada just did it himself. Taking her by the waist, he ignored her protests, gently but firmly pulling her off the refrigerator to force her out into the floor. Grace dropped her head and closed her eyes as he stepped around behind her, and did exactly what she was afraid of - Nuada nearly went insane. Spewing a violent torrent of some language even Eric had never heard before, he clenched his fists, turning away to pace across the expanse of the kitchen floor, then flipping around and stomping right back, returning to put his face directly in hers.

His fingers were under her chin and his nose was almost touching hers as he spoke, and Grace knew Glorfindel had nothing on Nuada in the "scare people shitless" department because her heart stopped beating. "If Haldir ever touches you again, I intend to kill him. Heniach nin, Erulissë? Do you understand me?" His voice was low, evil, putrid with hatred as he spoke and Grace believed every word. "I will play no games where you are concerned, Erulissë. You belong to me Lirimaer, and no creature will ever touch you again!"

Eric's gentle hand on his arm forced Nuada to step away from Grace, and she could only stand there and shake as the vampire forced his friend to walk away. Nuada stormed down the hall, and Grace grabbed for her shirt. She was just slipping it back on when she heard him nearly tear his bedroom door off the hinges, and she wondered if he would stay there – or if he would go kill Haldir. Completely overwhelmed, Grace passed a desperate look to Eric, praying he would do something to contain this situation.

To her surprise, the vampire did not go after Nuada, he stayed with her in the kitchen. Without saying a word, Eric also stepped round behind her, pulling up the back of her loose t-shirt to take a look for himself, and when his eyes met the flesh of her back, his reaction was little better than Nuada's. The Viking had seen enough wounds in his life to know Haldir could have easily killed Grace when he slammed her into that tree, and she was damn lucky he didn't. Frowning deeply, Eric stalked back to the bar stool he'd been sitting on before, silently considering the fragile form of the human girl he'd become so fond of. He'd endured her berating earlier that night, but now it was his turn . . . now Eric Northman intended to tell Grace just what he thought of her!

With eyes like ice, he exploded, his typically monotone voice raging through that room.   
"How long Grace?" he demanded harshly. "How long do you intend to get slapped around by that fucking elf Haldir? Do you really think you can survive if he keeps doing this shit to you? You've got Sookie, you're talented as hell on that computer in there, and you can do things that most people can't even dream of . . . but you're never gonna live to enjoy any of it, because you're gonna get your head split open by a god damned elf! Now I'm all for helping out a friend in need, but this is bullshit! Who the hell is he to just pop out of thin air and drag your ass off to Rivendell or wherever the hell he took you this time? If I'd known he was gonna do this to you, he wouldn't have made it out of my parking lot . . . but I tell you what . . . the next bruise I see on you, I'm gonna wring that silver-haired asshole's head off myself!"

Eric was about to climb in her face, and he actually did have his finger in it as he continued. "And I know what you're about to say to me, so don't! Don't even bother batting those big grey eyes at me while you beg me to go talk to Nuada. You're wasting your breath if you even ask me to walk down that hall. I hope he chokes Haldir of Lórien for doing that to you!"

Now Eric was so mad he was starting to scare Grace same as Nuada did, and she had to catch the counter she was shaking so hard. "You don't understand what it's like, Eric," Grace told him desperately. "We can't help what happens when we're together."

"Save it," he hissed. "You jumped on me, and I didn't bodyslam you did I? Did I, Grace? And you were all over me, mouthing at me . . . touching me . . . but did I fuck you, Grace? Did I take advantage of you when you couldn't stop yourself? Hell no I didn't, and that sorry oäkting didn't have to either!"

"He did it because of our blood, Eric," Grace answered, trying to explain. "He can't help it, neither can I!" Suddenly her heart went cold as Grace realized the true implications of what she just said. "Eric, you can't let Nuada hurt him . . . If Nuada kills Haldir, he might be killing me too."

Eric gave Grace a confused look, then his own heart froze. Haldir's blood flowed through Grace's veins. If she ever needed more, his living body was the only place she could get it. He was down that hall so fast you couldn't even see him move, and for the first time that night, Grace was grateful Eric was there.

Standing in the suddenly empty kitchen, Grace was stunned. She didn't know what to do, and finally made her way to the safety and solitude of her bedroom. Reluctantly, she made her way to the bathroom for a shower and clean clothes. Sheetrock dust covered her, and she would at least feel better when it was off. Stepping into the obnoxious space that was her bedroom, she couldn't help once again considering how much money her great-grandfather must have. The entire room was completely done in cream from the extremely plush carpet to the opulent velvet drapes to the embroidered bed clothes, and the magnificent carved dark wood bedroom suite looked like it belonged in a palace. Glancing around her Grace felt like it suited her – completely devoid of any color or life whatsoever – just a big blank spot of nothing which was exactly what she felt like after the night she'd been through.

The velvety carpet caressed her feet as she walked through the room, refusing to sit on the bed or the extremely overdone chair in the corner of the room. Instead she sank to the floor just staring out of the plate glass windows, just as she had the first night she came there. Leaning back against the edge of the bed, she wondered if she would ever see Haldir alive again, and she once again wondered if she would ever repair her relationship with Nuada.

****************************

Grace didn't know how many hours passed before she woke. She was no longer on the floor of her bedroom, she was on the bed, laying on her stomach and her shirt was gone. Nuada was carefully massaging some type of ointment all across her bruised back, and Grace started at the sight of him, afraid of the burning anger she'd seen from him earlier.

His eyes had thankfully returned to their beautiful emerald green, but they clouded instantly when he sensed her fright. "Saes, do not be afraid of me, Lirimaer," he told her quietly, his voice obviously strained as he spoke. "I would never harm you Erulissë, you must believe that."

The palms of his hands were intently working on the battered areas of her back, and it both soothed and terrified her at the same time. Grace could not stop the slight blue tremors of light that traced under her skin, stoked by his fingers against her flesh and she could not stop the pounding of her heart in her throat threatening to choke her as she thought about what he'd said to her earlier. She said nothing, only looked at him sadly, her eyes glowing in the soft lamp light caressing the room, dark grey like the thunderstorms she felt building within her. Nuada was studying her intently, and she knew he'd never let her out of the bed or out of the house without talking to her, yet she had no idea what to say. Her mind was still furious that Nuada was being paid to be there, but her heart desperately wanted to believe that money had nothing to do with the way he seemed to care for.

"I . . . I don't like it when you leave me," she finally managed to get out in a hoarse whisper.

"Just as I do not like to see these marks upon your" Nuada answered stiffly, his hands stilling, green eyes flaring as they studied her face.

"You know what the bond between us can do, Nuada . . . it's not Haldir's fault, and it's not mine either . . . this wasn't something I ever intended to happen," she murmured softly.

"Perhaps not, but it did happen, Erulissë . . . and now I am left to decide what is to happen now," his soft voice answered. "I care for you very much, Lirimaer, but I do not know how I am to be your guardian if you do not trust me. If you value the words of others over my own . . . if you honestly believe the horrid things you said to Eric and Niall earlier this very night, where does that leave me in your eyes?" He drew his hands away, his expression showing Grace yet again how much she had hurt him.

"Please don't leave me again," she whispered, having no idea how to tell Nuada what she felt for him, but certainly knowing that she wanted him to stay.

Nuada's face fell as he shook his head softly, seeing from her face that she had obviously been crying before she fell asleep, the dark circles telling him she had been worrying for days. "Please, no more tears, Erulissë," he offered soothingly, "but believe my words . . . if you truly believe my presence here is nothing more than a cruel attempt to use your flesh, or some sordid attempt to secure income I most certainly do not need, then I will leave this place and I will not return."

Dragging her painful body up in the bed, Grace flipped round to face him, putting her nose in his face just as he had hers only hours before. "I have no idea what your damn presence here is all about, so maybe you should be explaining it to me instead of sitting there snarling at me about using people and threatening me about honesty, because I might've fucked Haldir while I was high on Eric's blood, but at least I didn't get paid for it . . . while your arrogant ass has been paid for every second you've spent with me – every kiss – every time you held my hand! And that's not just being honest, it's a damn fact, so don't you sit there and look down your god damned nose at me like I'm a fucking fungus! Not after you showed up in my face two nights after you slept with me flaunting a damn bite mark from another woman on your neck! I feel like my heart's been ripped out and stomped on, and I've got every right to be pissed off at you, so don't you sit there and try to guilt trip me . . . either you stay because you want to be with me, or you walk your fucking ass out that door right now and don't you ever come back."

Nuada was frozen by the time Grace finished her speech. Even his eyes were completely flat, emotionless, not one flicker in their depths to tell Grace what he thought or what he felt. She wasn't the only one who was suffering in that room, but her words were true – every one of them. He'd lied to her about more things than she could imagine, he'd tried to erase the comfort he found in her arms by visiting a whore, and he had indeed been paid for every minute he'd spent with her – what right did he have to stay?

It took endless centuries of intestinal fortitude for Nuada to pull himself off that bed, and it took more resolve than he thought he possessed to make himself walk out of the room. Nuada was numb, broken and confused as he silently made his way to his own bedroom, slipping to sit in the chair in the corner, his very soul wounded, wondering what he should do. He was coming to the harsh realization that he cared for that little human woman in the other end of that apartment far more than he ever cared to admit to himself . . . but that was not something he was readily going to confess . . . and certainly not something he was capable of telling her tonight, so taking a deep breath, he disappeared. Nuada would leave Grace alone in Shreveport tonight. He would go to his home in Los Angeles, where he intended to take time for himself to think these things over, but deep down, Nuada already knew he would go back, and when he did, he would stay forever.

****************************

Refusing to sit in the deafening silence one moment longer, Grace finally slipped down the dark hall to Nuada's bedroom. She refused to tell Nuada how much he meant to her earlier, but she was seriously reconsidering that decision - she wasn't ready to confess and lay her soul bare either, but she knew she needed Nuada, and she didn't ever want to be without him again.

Tapping on the door, she got nothing, but he could be asleep so she eased open the door . . . and found the room empty. "Chicken shit!" she spat out loudly. Numb and furious, Grace made her way back down the hall. No way would she stay in this beautiful horrible place by herself. By god, if Nuada could leave, so could she!

With the blind direction of someone whose emotional stability has dissolved, she pulled out her suitcases. Packing was automatic, not something she needed to think about, just something she needed to do. It didn't take long before they were stored in the second seat of her truck, very much like they had been when she made that ill fated trip to Louisiana just a little over three months ago.

Heading to the office, she took down every note, every yellow sticky piece of paper she'd stuck to that wall. Carefully, she packed them in the plastic tub she used to carry her things from the flat to the office and back again. Taking it into her arms, she turned to leave that room once last time, her eyes falling on the unfinished golden puzzle box in the corner. With a thought, it was destroyed, reduced once again to it's thousands of tiny broken pieces. She was broken, so why should it remain?

The sun was well into the sky by the time she was done, somehow forcing her tired feet to move as she climbed into the beautiful black truck gleaming in the mid-morning sun as she ran her eyes over the front of that damn luxury apartment building one more time. She hadn't cried, hadn't shed one tear, and she didn't shed one then either, just cranked up and left. Heading to the office building, she repeated her actions from earlier, slowly disassembling the desk she'd used over the past months with military precision. Roxy came in once, but quickly left again. The expression on Grace's face told her she was not to be disturbed. When everything was done, every part of anything relating to Eric's house was stuffed inside that plastic tub, and Grace reached for the phone. Cairbre could take care of getting these things to Alcide Herveaux. He could manage the rest on his own – he wouldn't have a choice, at least for a little while.

Walking down the hall, the former marchwarden elf didn't know what was happening. He'd seen Grace come in, obviously distraught as she made her way down that hall. He knew how terrible her weekend with Haldir had been, but now that it was Wednesday morning, he didn't know what else happened since she got back. Her voice was strange, odd and strained as she spoke to him, delivering her final directions as she carefully told him where to deliver that box of blueprints. Turning to leave, he placed a gentle hand on her arm. "They will make you come back," he told her softly.

Grace lifted carefully guarded eyes to him, searching a pair as grey as her own. "I just need to get away from here for a little while . . ." she told him quietly.

Porcelain skin perfect as a cloudless sky creased into deep sorrow driven wrinkles, but stone grey eyes firmed with determination. "I can help you. Give me that pendant." He told her quickly, his voice hushed against any ears that might be listening. Glancing around, Cairbre slipped from the room, long strides quickly erasing the distance between that huge end office Nuada and Grace shared to his own. The ancient book was in his hands before the door had completely closed, the magical incantations he read from the yellowed parchment pages bestowing a sacred spell of hiding to the blessed Marchwarden's Pendant, reinforcing it's promise of protection to the woman who wore it.

Less than ten minutes passed before the silver haired elf returned, ten minutes of pure living hell Grace spent staring at the huge wood desk Nuada would normally be sitting behind, the same desk he'd pulled her against and told her how he could make her forget Haldir. Her eyes were filled with tears when Cairbre came to stand in front of her again, silently replacing Haldir's pendant in her hand, his own eyes betraying the stress he now shared with her. "It will not last past two weeks time, but it will grant you some peace. I do not know what the last moons have brought your way Erulissë, but please know that I stand ready to help you if you desire it."

Grace nodded to him in appreciation, clinging to the heavy gold necklace in her hand like it was going to save her life, then she began to walk away. Firm fingers worn rough by years against the bowstring stopped her. "That hiding spell can be made permanent, but it would take one more powerful than me. If you find that is your heart's desire, you need only let me know. I Melain berio le, may the Valar keep you safely in their arms until we meet again Lady Grace." Cairbre stepped away from her, his hand over his heart as he nodded respectfully to her, and Grace quickly turned away, heading for the elevator and the freedom of her truck.

There was a lot going on here that Cairbre didn't know about, a lot no one knew about save Grace and Sookie. Eric's thoughts had been absolutely correct two nights ago at Fangtasia – Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Nuada and Eric were fixing to find out just how that worked firsthand. Grace hadn't spent the past several hours in silence, she'd spent them on the phone with Sookie, and they cooked up a plan to be proud of.

Retching up every fragment of long suppressed irritation for her current situation, Grace went into pure devil payback mode, reserving herself a room at a five star hotel across town before she slipped her computer out of that docking station– and it wasn't just any hotel either. It was the very same hotel where she'd come to stay originally, and she even went so far as the request the very same room number. Nuada could go hide his ass in Los Angeles if he wanted to, because she'd be sipping champagne in her luxury suite overlooking Shreveport's Riverfront District, and she intended to enjoy every single thing the 5-mile long Line Avenue shopping district had to offer her. She intended to go in every single antique store, boutique and specialty shop – she intended to eat, she intended to drink, and she damn well intended to be merry. Piss on her guardian and his paychecks! The holidays were here, and she did originally come to Shreveport on vacation, so while it was gonna be coming some three months later than expected, Grace was going to finish it just the same!

Sookie was in on every inch of the plan. She could pretend as well as the next girl could, and she was none too impressed that Eric's mouth had caused such a ruckus between Nuada and Grace. Sookie often told Eric things she and Grace shared, and it never occurred to her that he'd been repeating them back to Nuada. It wouldn't hurt the old vampire to be brought down a few notches! And like Grace, she was positive Nuada was coming back. There was no mistaking he cared, and he was never gonna stay away for long.

It hadn't occurred to Grace how she was going to keep Nuada away from her when and if he did return, but Cairbre had unexpectedly provided the perfect solution. Nuada wanted to teach Grace a lesson by leaving, but now she was the one who was gone. They were both in this deep, and she couldn't wait to see who won this dangerous game they played.


	23. Love or Lust

Chapter 23 – The Difference between Love and Lust

"Do you think that's funny? Because I sure don't!" Sookie's face was leaning across Eric's desk in Fangtasia, her eyes just a fraction away from his. She'd been rehearsing this for two days, and now that Friday night was here, she was fully prepared to execute her plan.

Eric glanced up at his beautiful girlfriend strangely when she suddenly slammed that cell phone onto his desk, and it took him a minute to focus on what she was telling him. "What?" he asked uncertainly.

"Why on earth are you looking at a picture of a possum?" Sookie demanded, raking her eyes from Pam to Eric and back again.

Eric said nothing, impatiently snatching the paper off his desk and throwing it in the trash. "Yes, Lover?" he said, turning to Sookie, refocusing his attention completely on her.

"I asked you if you think this is funny?" she demanded again, hitting the speaker phone button on her cell phone to play a sobbed message from Grace telling her beloved cousin she was leaving Louisiana forever.

Eric's eyes tore up to meet Sookie's. He didn't listen to the message the first time she played it, but he sure heard it that time. Surely, Grace wasn't serious?

"Are you telling me Grace has left the state?" Eric demanded, and Sookie nodded in return, knowing that was a bold faced lie – and not caring one iota, because it was all part of the plan.

Grace wasn't in another state. She was sitting across town on her hotel balcony, looking over the glimmering lights of downtown Shreveport snuggled in that same blanket she'd shared with Nuada on the couch sipping on a mug of hot cocoa, but Eric sure wasn't gonna find out, and Nuada wasn't going to either. That stupid creature didn't even know Grace was gone yet, but he was certainly about to find out because Sookie Stackhouse hadn't been in Eric's office more than fifteen minutes before Mr. Disappearing Act himself walked in.

Sookie's glare and Eric's frown told him instantly things were not well, and Nuada wished he'd simply gone to the apartment first instead of stopping to show Eric his new car first. "What has she done now?" he demanded, positive their expressions of discontent related to Grace.

Eric played the message off Sookie's telephone again. "Sookie says Grace left. She doesn't know where she went."

Nuada's face was flat, expressionless as he listened, all the while slowly circling Sookie, actually leaning over to smell her hair as he studied her. "You have seen Erulissë very recently," he said softly, "and you are lying."

"I do not tell lies!" Sookie exploded back at him. "That message is everything I know! If you don't believe me, then you tell me where she is!" She was glaring at Nuada, silently praying her mind control was strong enough to block his prying and that the spell Cairbre gave Grace was strong enough to keep him away. They were.

Reaching out with his mind all Nuada got was a big basket full of nothing. No aura, no Grace, no emotions, no nothing. Frowning deeply, he considered that. It was simply not possible, not for Grace to accomplish by herself anyway, and he immediately knew there was a lot more involved in this than Grace simply disappearing.

"Tell me where she is,Sookie," Nuada demanded softly, his words being backed up by the most intense glare from Eric he'd ever seen.

"I. Do. Not. Know." Sookie told him coldly, returning Eric's glare with one of her own. He pulled that long, lean frame out of his chair and leaned over his desk so he was right in Sookie's face.

"You better not Sook, because I will certainly not be happy if I find out you do." Eric's cold blue eyes were telling Sookie he wasn't kidding, but that devious little blond wasn't the least bit frightened of Eric Northman – that vampire was putty in her hands.

Leaning right over the desk toward him, Sookie let Eric look straight down the low v-neck of that tight sweater she wore just for him. "I'd never lie to you, Eric," she purred, and he just melted.

Nuada sure as hell didn't melt, although he was angry enough to spontaneously combust. Not even bothering with the new car, he popped himself to that apartment instantly, kicking Grace's closed bedroom door clear off the hinges - again. The bed was made, every pillow perfect and the room was completely empty. Grace was gone, or at least her things were. Fuming, he paced his way to the kitchen, finding the parking lot empty when he peered out the window before stalking on down the hallway toward the office. It was the last thing he expected to find when he ripped open that door, and he could only stare stunned at the now blank wall over her computer desk, positive Grace wouldn't be that cruel to Eric, even after the problems he caused! Turning away, startled green eyes found the now demolished puzzle box on the table, and Nuada stiffened. He certainly wasn't expecting that, and for the first time, he began to wonder if Grace really was gone.

Heading to his bedroom, he had Roxy on the phone before he got the door open, demanding to know if Grace had been to the office recently. His flustered assistant dutifully recited Grace's odd visit on Wednesday morning, and Nuada's heart went numb. He left Grace not once, but twice, but never did it occur to him that she might return the favor, and as he slid to sit on the edge of his bed, Nuada's mind scrambled to catch up. Somehow, even as powerful as he was, Grace had now managed to block herself from him . . . it was like some sick game the damn human girl was playing with him – and she was winning!

Absently stroking the smooth navy satin with his fingers, his mind replayed the nights Grace spent laying there. Without even thinking, he picked up a pillow, cradling it against his chest as he thought about holding her again. Squeezing it slightly, he leaned over and breathed in softly. That pillow smelled like Grace, smelled just like Grace in fact – a little too much like Grace he suddenly realized. Sitting up, he carefully looked over the entire bed – Grace had been in his room - and she'd done something to his bed. Lifting each pillow in turn, and finally leaning down to the comforter, Nuada realized Grace sprayed his bed with her perfume. Seemed Grace wanted to remind him what used to be in that bed with him! He couldn't help the tiniest little lift at the corners of his mouth as he sat there . . . Erulissë obviously considered this to be a game they were playing . . . and it was a very dangerous game indeed!

Come Monday, Nuada's gentle smile had faded. All the humor in Grace being gone was now lost to him. One day, two at most he could accept . . . five nights without one word? No way in hell could Grace possibly hide herself from his mental reach for that length of time. Not without help of the supernatural variety, and there were very few places Grace could get that type of help from. The situation was simply not acceptable! How not acceptable was something Cairbre was fixing to find out, because Nuada was waiting for him when he walked in his office that morning.

The carefully blank expression of a well trained marchwarden soldier was all Nuada got in response to his burning glare, a response that only served to silently infuriate Nuada that much more. "Need I remind you who I am?" Nuada asked coolly, casually flipping through that morning's Wall Street Journal like it was the most interesting thing ever. Cairbre said nothing in return, completely ignoring the supernatural creature reclined in one of his plush leather office chairs, while situating his briefcase and settling himself behind his huge wood desk.

"Is there something you needed of me this morning Nuada?" Cairbre inquired politely.

Folding the paper into a very neat rectangle, Nuada settled forward in the chair, raising two emerald green eyes with white fire burning in their depths to meet Cairbre's silvery cold grey stare. "Would you like it?" he asked carefully, offering the elf the paper. "I am finished reading it."

Cairbre said nothing, simply watched Nuada lay the paper on the corner of his desk, carefully watching every move of the man seated across from him. "Or perhaps the newspaper is not your preference. Perhaps you prefer to read something along different lines . . . ancient books of the Sacred Spells perhaps?" Nuada's voice was still very calm, perfectly controlled but that hidden tone was colder than the ocean depths as he studied Cairbre across the gleaming expanse of dark wood that separated them.

The elf sat and politely listened, refusing to be baited into an argument with Nuada. "I read a great variety of things." He answered flatly. "Do you have a recommendation?"

"As a matter of fact I do." Nuada answered softly, pulling himself out of the chair and leaning across it directly into Cairbre's face. "I would recommend that you revoke that hiding spell you were so generous as to share with Erulissë." His voice instantly changed from smooth and soft to hard as nails as Nuada continued to speak. "You seem to have forgotten Erulissë belongs to me. And if you wish to continue enjoying the comforts of this life, you will see that she is returned to me safely and soon because if I have to go searching for her, I will open the very gates of hell against Imladris herself. Heniach nin Mellon nín ? Do you understand me my friend?"

Nuada continued to stare at Cairbre for a moment longer, knowing that blank expression did not mean Cairbre was not listening to every word he was saying. Slowly he straightened from the desk, crossing the room smoothly and silently before stopping at the door. "One last thing Cairbre. You tell that General of yours if he puts another mark on Erulissë, I intend to kill him." Nuada's voice was glacial, and Cairbre knew he was serious. He was also in no position to do one thing about anything that had been said to him until the close of business, so he forced himself to put Nuada's words out of his mind for the moment. The spell he passed to Grace would not last beyond two weeks. Hopefully she would decide to return to Nuada within that time.

Monday didn't go very well for Eric either. He was of the same frame of mind that Nuada was. Surely Grace hadn't left for real, even if Sookie wasn't talking. His opinion was a little different after he called Alcide Herveaux to check on his house after waking that night to several very odd messages. Alcide politely informed him every single thing Grace possessed concerning his house had been hand delivered to his office on Wednesday afternoon, and if that vampire hadn't already been dead, Eric would have probably died from a heart attack right there. He was certainly praying to his Pagan Gods for salvation then, hoping against hope that Grace returned to finish his house, and that she returned before Christmas in time for him to ask his favor.

Unlike everyone else, Grace had a fantastic Monday. She'd spent hours meandering through the shopping district, slowly working her way from one obnoxious rack of overpriced purses to clothes, to shoes, to glass collectibles, and to everything else imaginable. Shopping this way was something Grace never did, and she actually found herself thoroughly enjoying it. The strangeness of it took her mind off everything else, and she allowed herself to focus only on the moment she was captured within, nothing else.

Hours passed as she lingered in shop after shop and Grace finally found herself in front of one of the salons. The sweetest young girl was out front, so beautiful and excited as she invited people inside to try out their services. "The holidays are here, and everyone deserved to be pampered!" she told each woman who passed by.

Those deep chocolate eyes surrounded by billowing dark hair locked on Grace immediately, somehow sensing she could use the relaxation her associates could provide. It took a moment, but Grace finally relented, giving herself over for the full treatment. Her hair was trimmed and her highlights touched up, she got a manicure and pedicure, then she had a facial followed by a makeover. It was the most relaxing thing she'd ever done for herself! After that, she hit a row of high end boutiques, buying several new outfits, and even two pair of shoes. She was gone for hours before relenting to her aching back and tired feet.

Laying on the plush bed she stared out over the lights of the city and silently studied the room service menu. She wasn't that hungry, and after what seemed like an eternity, she drifted off to sleep, actually sleeping until the sun was well up in the sky the next morning. After she took a shower and pulled on some of her new clothes, she headed downstairs to the Escalade. Grace turned off her cell phone Wednesday morning when she left, not even taking it into the hotel room with her, but she and Sookie were supposed to meet one afternoon this week. She'd need it to call her cousin and make arrangements. Flipping it open and pressing the little red button that revived it, Grace was not the least bit surprised to see twenty-seven missed calls on it. Sticking her tongue out at it, she flung it into her purse, refusing to listen to even one voice mail before she did.

Heading around town, Grace found herself wondering what kind of trouble she could get into today – and what kind she could stay out of! Nothing came to her, and she eventually settled for a lonely high end lunch in an exclusive little boutique restaurant nestled into the most upscale part of town, silently flipping through the fashion magazine she grabbed when she stopped at the convenience store for a drink as she nibbled on a huge grilled chicken salad. Taking a sip of Diet Coke, Grace stared at the beautiful people in the photos and she wondered if she did get off her ass and do more with herself if Nuada might feel differently about her.

Those thoughts lingered as she finished lunch, leaving the waitress a $20 then heading back across town toward the Riverfront District. Turning her truck over to the valet, she decided to return to the day spa, once again treating herself to the works, soaking in the specialized baths, getting her hair conditioned and treated, finally having her face massaged and made up to perfection. When Grace stepped out, she felt every inch a supermodel, and she looked it too. Glancing into the bathroom mirror after she returned to her room, she admired her hair and glowing skin in the mirror, then glanced over to the beautiful new clothes she bought the day before. More than anything else, she wished Nuada was there and that he cared enough to see her in them. As she sat there, Grace realized it was getting late and was torn between getting something to eat and seriously considering going to a bar, anything to get her mind off the guardian that tormented her.

As that word "bar" echoed through her mind, Grace suddenly remembered something. She didn't have to be stuck in this hotel room alone, and she didn't have to sit there and pine for Nuada either! Logan gave her his phone number, and he practically begged her to use it. Digging through her purse, Grace retrieved her phone and his number, reluctantly deciding she should check her missed calls before making a new one. Several were from Alcide, several more from Eric, there was one from Sookie, but none from Nuada. Obviously he hadn't come back or he didn't care, and Grace didn't know which.

Deciding Sookie was worth more than Logan, Grace called her ever perky blonde haired cousin, catching her at work, disgusted to be serving a brood of drunks enjoying yet another Christmas Party. Sookie didn't have but a minute, but it was a very informative once. Nuada was back, and he was pissed to no end that Grace was gone. Sookie had lied, covering for Grace the best she could, but her cousin better be very careful until she decided to talk to him. Thanking Sookie for the info, Grace let her go, knowing how Sam felt about personal telephone calls at work.

************************************

That news about Nuada put a huge damper on her spirits, and Grace found herself praying they would be able to reconcile their differences. She wasn't the only one praying. Cairbre was praying to the Valar Haldir of Lórien wasn't going to kill him because he'd just interrupted him, buried in the depths of the Golden Wood on a boar hunt. They had just killed a huge animal, and the group of men was congratulating one another when the retired marchwarden arrived. Running up to Haldir, Cairbre was excited and breathless. "We must speak my friend."

Haldir frowned, immediately sensing something was wrong and knowing who it would pertain to. Giving Cairbre a curious look, he smacked Orophin on the back "Good Job! Good Job!" he told him, then turned and walked a short distance away with Cairbre. "What is wrong that you have searched for me in the deep woods this morning?" Haldir asked of his friend, pausing after he saw the deep concern on his friend's face. "Is something wrong with Grace?" he asked suddenly.

Cairbre took a deep breath. Nothing he was about to repeat was going to go over well, he was positive of it. "I was paid a rather pointed visit by Nuada yesterday morning."

Haldir frowned, his expression carefully guarded as he waited. "Nuada . . . and?"

Cairbre closed his eyes, this was going to be a very bad day. Opening them again, the silver grey of his eyes met ocean blue as he reluctantly faced his friend who was now staring at him intently. "I have done something perhaps I should not have, and I fear there may be repercussions."

Haldir frowned as deeply as he ever had. Cairbre was no longer formally under his command, although he was still a valued honorary member of the marchwarden guard. As his general, anything that involved Cairbre or Grace, involved him. He said nothing, those dark raised eyebrows saying it all for him as he waited rather impatiently for his friend to speak.

"Grace came to the business offices of Lord Elrond and Lord Niall on Wednesday. She was . . . distraught . . . needing to escape the grasp of Nuada for a time. I bestowed upon her one of the sacred hiding spells, and I fear her absence has not set well with her guardian." Cairbre nearly cringed as the words came from his mouth, knowing what Haldir's reaction was most likely to be.

Haldir stood completely still as the words his lower ranking friend slowly sank in. Cairbre had passed a hiding spell to Grace so she could remain hidden from her guardian. That was not a good set of circumstances to be sure. Lifting his face from where he had been studying a clump of grass in thought, he raked a deep gaze over Cairbre, taking in the obvious distress etched across that porcelain skin. His news was not complete. Narrowed blue eyes darkening rapidly from anger silently told Cairbre to finish his tale, and the reluctant elf did.

"Nuada passes on a warning to you as well. Grace belongs to him, and my life rests on her safe return. Should she choose to remain hidden, his warning was clear. He threatens the very gates of hell against Imladris herself." Cairbre stopped, needing the deep breath he struggled to draw in to relay his last bit of information. "There was another warning as well Haldir. If your hand places another mark on the Lady Grace, he intends to kill you."

It was very unusual for Haldir of Lórien to lose his temper. As commander of a highly skilled group of men, he possessed the ability to remain calm and give orders under the most dire of circumstances, but he felt waves of pure fury overtaking him as he stood in that forest. Cairbre and the others watched as Haldir fought valiantly to remain in control of himself, but it was a battle he soon lost.

"That vulgar creation of tainted flesh intends to threaten me?" Haldir managed to growl out before going completely berserk. None of the men present had ever seen their general so consumed by anger, and watched in complete amazement as Haldir did his very best to destroy everything contained within the beautiful clearing he was standing within.

When he finally calmed down enough to approach, the very look in his eyes was enough to terrify most men. "Haldir, you must contain yourself," Cairbre told him calmly, "The spell I bestowed was weak, two weeks time at most. Surely Grace will return to his care within that time. As to his threats I know not what to tell you. Perhaps you should leave the girl to the creature – she is but a mortal after all."

Haldir looked at his friend, pure evil burning in his eyes. "That mortal wears the pendant of protection, bestowed to her by my own hand. Would you question my commitment to her?" Still furious, Haldir stalked away and Cairbre made a desperate plea to the hulking blonde elf who was also there.

"Glorfindel, I beg you please keep him away from Grace. Only terrible things will come from Haldir returning to the human world." Cairbre's words held a sincere warning, and he hoped the powerful golden warrior would heed them. Knowing he could do nothing more, he returned to the human world himself, needing a shower and clean clothes before he settled for the night.

************************************

Grace was about to settle for the night as well. She'd lost all interest in calling Logan after her conversation with Sookie, contenting herself with another mug of hot chocolate and a freezing cold visit to the balcony. She was just closing the French doors when the ever familiar pop of a supernatural being entering her room cut through the darkness. There weren't any lights on in that hotel room, Grace enjoying the peaceful stillness of the night, and she honestly didn't know who just decided to pay her a visit.

"Hello?" she called out uncertainly, knowing it could be any variety of elves or fairies coming after her, and praying her peaceful hiatus was not about to abruptly end.

The glittering eyes of the man standing in her room were studying her curiously, wondering why she would be intentionally sitting in the cold, noting the blanket wrapped around her was woefully inadequate to keep her warm on such a frigid evening. He said nothing, enjoying the fact that he had the upper hand for the moment, wondering what she would do when she discovered he was there.

"Hello?" Grace called out again, the pounding of her heart competing with the sudden tightening of her chest as faint blue flickers began to trace underneath her skin. She was frightened, and her first instinct was to protect herself.

Knowing that from the tone in her voice, he reluctantly answered, stepping closer so his silhouette was outlined against the faint light sneaking underneath the door behind him. "Hello Grace." Haldir said politely, that strange accent oddly beautiful against the quiet darkness.

Grace stared into the darkness like she was suddenly trapped in the Amityville Horror, and OSM didn't even begin to encompass how shocking that moment was. Standing in front of the now closed French doors, Grace instantly surmised Haldir of Lórien was standing across that hotel room from her, and she could hear exactly what he was thinking. He was wondering if she was angry with him for not taking the time or making the effort to talk with her before Cairbre returned her from the elven realm, and he was wondering how bad those marks on her body were from their fight if Nuada felt he deserved a death threat for them.

Standing in the darkness, Grace answered his silent questions. "No, I most certainly am not, and they were pretty bad." Haldir would never get used to the strange fact that Grace could hear his thoughts too sometimes, and Grace didn't need to see his face to know she just shocked the shit out of him.

Finally Grace couldn't stand the darkness any longer and crossed the room to flip on the overhead light, dreading what she was about to face. Haldir was standing in the center of the room, casually looking at the various things filling the huge hotel suite. He was also not so casually looking at her.

As soon as she flipped on the light, Haldir stepped closer to her. He looked at her intently, tilting his head the way he did sometimes when he was curious and waited for her to say something. Grace had no idea what she was supposed to say. The last contact they had with each other was a strange combination of love and hate that swung wildly from trying to kill one another to trying to screw each other to death. It seemed understandable that she was at a bit of a loss for words.

Haldir just stood there, watching the emotions cross her face, listening to her thoughts. Crossing the huge room, he came to stand directly in front of her, reaching down to gently tilt her head up to him with his fingers. His touch nearly took her breath away, as she looked into those velvety blue eyes. He studied the strangeness of the human woman he was so in awe of, the soft glow of her skin, the glowing pewter of her eyes. "How are you Grace?" He asked softly.

Looking up at him, Grace found herself lost in his eyes, drunk with the feeling of being so close to him. She closed her eyes, struggling to steady herself, trying to decide what she should do. Grace swore to herself she was done with Haldir when she got back from that hellacious weekend she just barely survived. She was concentrating on fixing things with Nuada – and now Haldir just showed up? Grace felt like an alcoholic who was halfway through detox and had just been handed a huge bottle of their favorite liquor. Was she going to follow the plan, or pop the top and have some?

Finally, she opened her eyes, and stared up at him, her eyes burning. "I'm fine." Grace answered uncertainly.

Grace was fighting already, unable to stop the heat that was now beginning to fill her veins from his very presence in the same room with her, determined she would not relent. Standing there in her pajamas, she slowly counted backwards from 25 right down to 0, and made a promise to herself that she would write "I will never screw a marchwarden again" five hundred times if she relented to that damn blood bond before he left the room.

She might be fighting hard, but Grace wanted Haldir so bad she could taste it, and he knew it. Every time the man got close to her, the heat of desire radiated from her so strongly it nearly burned his mind. Forcing herself to take deep, steady breaths Grace closed her eyes again, just so she wouldn't have to look at him. It was a struggle, but she managed to remain perfectly calm, and Haldir was impressed.

It took her a good five minutes, but finally Grace opened her eyes. Haldir would always be the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and he was standing right in front of her in that damn luxury suite, but she wasn't ready to pop the top quite yet. Haldir agreed with her train of thought. It would be much better if they both learned to control this strange power they held over one another, and slowly he stepped back from her, determined he would not tempt Grace tonight.

Needing to be as far away from him as possible, Grace quickly crossed the room, settling herself on the couch there. Haldir followed suit, sinking onto the bed uncertainly as they studied each other across the open suite. Grace had already taken a shower and dressed for bed, her hair still slightly damp and clinging tightly to her head, the makeup gone. She was dressed in a simple pair of lightweight pajamas – the loose tank top and matching shorts done in a heather grey that closely resembled her eyes – and she was thankfully, still partially wrapped in that damn blanket from the apartment. Haldir was dressed in his traditional marchwarden clothing very much as he had been the first time Grace ever saw him, and damn he looked good. In the now brightly lit room, Grace could easily see from Haldir's face he was both angry and upset, and she wondered why he was there.

The elf's voice was as beautiful and melodic as she remembered it when he began speaking to her. "Grace, did I harm you when we fought? Did I hurt you badly when I struck your face?" Grace didn't say anything in response, just listened. His voice sounded somewhat tormented, and Grace could tell the questions upset him terribly.

"I have come to offer my sincerest apologies for what has happened between us . . . I can not find peace with the way I handled your last visit to the Marchwarden camp. My lust and anger consumed me and I shall never forgive myself." He paused, his voice softly echoing through the still quiet of the room. "I pray to the Valar that you might one day forgive me, and I hope that I have wrought no lasting damage to you." His voice was strained with his last words, and Grace knew he meant them.

Grace sat there for a minute, turning his words over in her mind, shocked that Haldir made the effort to come apologize to her. Looking over at him, Grace thought back to Eric's lecture about living right. She suddenly realized she needed to apologize to Haldir too, and it was a very hard thing to do. What was this anyway - Grace's month for apologizing?

Clenching her hands into tight fists underneath that blanket, Grace forced her mouth to start working. "I'm sorry too Haldir. I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me, and I am going to do everything I can never to let it happen again. Please don't worry about being forgiven, I'm not mad at you." Silently, Grace added a whole lot more to that statement, mentally cussing Eric Northman for giving her a damn conscious all of a sudden.

Haldir seemed oblivious to her mental anguish at having to say she was sorry, and somewhat relieved to hear her words. Relieved or not, that expression of anxiety didn't disappear and Grace immediately knew there was more to his visit that just an apology. Sitting up on the very edge of the couch, she leaned forward and looked him straight in the face. "Why are you really here?" she asked suddenly. Haldir's eyebrows went up as he considered her question, surprised by her directness and perception of his feelings.

Taking his own deep breath, his eyes locked on hers, his voice low and sincere. "I did truly come to apologize Grace, but you are correct. There is another reason for my visit." He paused, as if the next words were causing him great distress, then continued. "Cairbre has endangered himself by granting you that hiding spell. He is my responsibility, and as much as it displeases me, I must know if you intend to return yourself to the care of your guardian."

Grace immediately picked up on the fact that Haldir refused to say Nuada's name. Obviously, there was no love lost there whatsoever. She wasn't directly linked to his thoughts, but she was getting enough bits and pieces to know there was a lot more to it than that, but she couldn't quite grasp what he was actually thinking. Shifting her mind back to Nuada, she suddenly thought of something else. "How did you find me?" she asked, completely changing the subject, but needing to know. If Haldir found her, Nuada probably could too.

Haldir smiled at her softly. "Grace, the sacred talisman around your neck spent over one thousand years against my flesh. A simple hiding spell could never shield that pendant from my grasp."

Settling back onto the couch, Grace wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, suddenly feeling like she needed to be hiding, afraid Nuada was going to rip that entry door off the hinges at any moment. She better get Haldir the hell away from her and fast!

"You can't keep coming to me this way. Nuada is going to kill you." Grace nearly whispered, suddenly terrified her guardian might be able to hear her very words. "You're gonna have to leave."

Pure contempt washed over Haldir's face, telling Grace instantly that she could have spit on him and insulted him less. His facial expression was very much the same as the day he slapped her, and Grace cringed. She hoped she never saw the day Haldir and Nuada went after each other, because it would be the end of her world if they did.

Pulling himself off the bed as easily as water flows over a waterfall, Haldir came to stand. "You have not answered my question Grace. Do you intend to return to your guardian? If I am to face his displeasure by your hand, I should at least be forewarned."

Grace got off the couch herself, crossing the room to stand in front of Haldir, tilting her head back so she could look up at him. Damn he was a beautiful thing. Dangerous as far as she was concerned, but damn beautiful. "Yes Haldir. I intend to go back to Nuada." She answered softly, wondering if it would either hurt his feeling, or make him angry. Thankfully, it seemed to do neither. Haldir actually looked relieved.

"Very good then." He told her firmly. Deep blue eyes were locked on her face, and Haldir took a step closer, erasing the little distance that remained between them. His head was tilted once again in that curious consideration Grace thought was so adorable, and he reached to gently run a finger down her cheek. "Now, you must answer my other question Grace. Did I bring harm to you when we struggled?" his voice was so soft, so gentle when he asked that question, Grace felt her knees go weak. Haldir of Lórien could melt solid rock with that soft sultry voice if he tried.

That voice in combination with that touch rendered Grace completely speechless for a moment. All she could manage was a deep frown. Her heart was threatening to run away, and Grace knew there was no way in hell she was going to pull her shirt off so Haldir could check out those fading bruises on her back! One of those hot elf hands pressed against her flesh was all it was gonna take for her to have him pinned on that huge king size bed behind her.

It took a few deep breaths and her hand locked over that pendant around her neck, but she finally managed to answer. "I got some bruises, but now I'm fine," she told him softly. "You didn't do nearly as much to me as I did to your brothers."

The sadness in her voice told Haldir she never meant to hurt his brothers, and he never thought that she did. Grace couldn't control herself around him any better than he could. And speaking of control, she should have kept her ass on that couch, because now they were standing so close they were nearly brushing each other. The air became thick with desire and unspoken need as their eyes locked, silently saying so many things they couldn't. It only took a second for Haldir to catch her mouth with his, those firm velvety lips gentle but demanding as his tongue found it's way to explore that wondrous warm dampness it longed for. Her arms found their way around his neck of their own accord, ten small tanned fingers winding themselves through silken stands of captured moonlight, and the sigh that escaped her was one of pure contentment. His hand was in her hair too, those short strands tickling his fingers while the other hand applied just enough pressure to the small of her back to show her how his body wanted her too.

Grace felt as if she were drowning, feeling the hard masculinity of the elf she was facing, knowing how he could make her body feel. As the very blood in her veins began to boil, he pressed harder and that pain in her back suddenly brought her clouded mind back into focus. She absolutely could not give herself to him again! Grace abruptly pulled away, clamping her hand over her mouth so she couldn't possibly keep kissing him. "You've got to leave," she rasped out, backing away from him as quickly as she could without stumbling.

Although it took him a moment to regain his own composure, Haldir handled her quick exit quite gracefully. Straightening himself, the marchwarden drew a few steadying breaths then spoke to her for the last time that night. His voice was still gentle, but desire made it thick and low, and Grace knew he was fighting as hard as she was.

"I Melain berio le – May the Valar keep you until we speak again," he told her softly, his eyes devouring what his flesh could not. With one last lingering gaze, Haldir placed his hand over his heart. "Namárië," he whispered softly as he nodded to her, and then he was gone.

Grace stood there for a minute, trying to figure out what the hell just happened, not sure what she was feeling. That hadn't been an OSM – that had been a WTF moment because that was certainly what was running through her mind – What the Fuck was that all about?   
Flipping her thumb ring on and off in agitation she slowly began to pace the room. On the one hand she was so proud of herself she could have done the monkey dance – she was able to resist Haldir! Woo Hoo! Miracles do happen. On the other hand, she was now trapped in a lonely hotel room hotter than beach sand on the Fourth of July and she had no idea how long she might stay that way.

Stalking back and forth, Grace debated her situation with Haldir – and with Nuada. She must have paced for over an hour throwing around thoughts of the two pointy eared creatures who'd come to torment her very existence. She cared for them both, desired them both, but truth be known there was no comparison – and she knew exactly what the difference was.

Haldir of Lorien was a magnificent creature, beautiful to look at, wonderful in bed, and seemingly with a kind heart. Grace owed her very existence to that creature, and she could not control her body when he was present, but the emotions of that physical contact were lacking. It was nothing but sheer physical pleasure provided compliments of their blood bond - the embodiment of pure, unadulterated lust.

Now Nuada, well that creature was something else entirely. Utterly masculine and wonderful to look at, Amarande Nuada could set her very soul on fire with a single glance from across the room. It was almost as if when he spoke to her, every molecule of her being snapped to attention, and while it was not something she'd ever say out loud, not something she'd ever even willingly admit, Grace knew deep down she held more feelings for that blond haired man than she'd ever held for any other creature she'd known . . . Grace had fallen in love.

It was a shocking thought, and Grace sucked in a deep breath then headed to the in room mini-bar, digging around until she found a pack of cigarettes buried there. She retrieved the package, lighting one then sucking the smoke deep into her lungs, the burn was fantastic! It reminded her she was still alive. Digging further, she pulled out a vodka mini bottle and a diet coke. Finding a glass, she filled it with more of the vodka than coke and downed it in two gulps – then she filled it up again, enjoying the burn.

That liquor was bringing the first warmth she'd felt in days, and as every dark sip disappeared, her mind burned with thoughts of Nuada. Since Cairbre put that blocking spell on the pendant and she slipped it over her head, Grace felt completely cold inside. Without his aura touching her, her very soul felt chilled, abandoned, completely alone – and she wanted that feeling to stop. She closed her eyes and thought back to his gentle fingers rubbing that ointment into her back, the way he made love to her in the shower, the comforting sound of her great-grandfather's words. Was it really true that no amount of money could buy her guardian's affections? Was it possible that Nuada did truly care for her?

The tears began to slip down her nose as she went to sprawl across the obnoxious bed, staring out the doors into the darkness. This hotel room was not where Grace wanted to be. She wanted to be in that obnoxious luxury apartment curled up beside Nuada, but she wasn't quite ready to cave in yet. She intended to finish out every single second of her original vacation, but she was also growing increasingly determined that before these ten days were up, she would figure out some way to make their relationship work.

Those thoughts plagued her mind until sleep and liquor finally quenched the emptiness she felt, and Grace drifted away, wondering if she could ever repair things between her and Nuada . . . and in Los Angeles, her guardian was wondering the very same thing. Liquor had also been the warmth of choice, Nuada repeatedly reaching for the Crown Royal as he tried to ease the chill in his soul and determine a course of action. He wanted Grace – that he could not deny – and he also knew he could find her with no more than a thought or phone call, but that was one temptation he was determined to resist. Nuada was positive if he knew where Grace was, he'd go to her and that was simply not acceptable. He was a proud warrior, a revered mercenary who bowed to no creature, especially not some little human woman, and hell would freeze over fifteen feet thick before he went crawling back to her groveling. No – Grace would come back to him, or she'd get nothing, he was absolutely determined.

Unfortunately that resolve didn't last another hour, and as Nuada stood watching darkness fall over the west coast, he made a silent mental command, hearing Kelen when the fairy guardian popped himself into the den. "I have a task for you," Nuada said, turning to face his second in command, "and no other creature is to know of it."

"Muinë heru, Nuada, what might I do for you?" the guardian responded respectfully.

"Retrieve the financial records for Erulissë. There will be a hotel receipt among them, and I want the name and room number, then begin immediate surveillance of it. I am to know any and every creature that goes near her. Understood?" Kelen nodded respectfully, then immediately disappeared, leaving Nuada alone again, but within moments he left himself, fading into the shadows only to reemerge from a dark hall of Crash Mansion.

One burning glance was all it took for Serena to be headed his way and within minutes the ominous black door to a private room closed behind them. Nuada had not pleasured himself with Serena since sleeping with Grace - he'd come very close but managed to walk away, earning himself a vicious bite to the neck instead - but this time, Nuada could promise the whore he would indeed take up where he left off. The dislocated supernatural creature had secretly made countless visits back to his home and to this club to seek physical pleasures from the red haired prostitute during the past months. At times his visits were short, other times hours on end, but always they were the same – cold, emotionless and impersonal use of a werewolf's flesh to appease the fire burning in his. Never did Nuada waste his time with gentleness or the intent of pleasing her – the visits were only about his need and his release – and tonight, it would be about easing his pain.

"Strip," he growled, already ripping his shirt off, oblivious to the buttons scattering on the floor.

Serena seductively began to slide down the zipper of her tight leather skirt, stepping out of her shoes as Nuada threw his pants aside, only to find herself unceremoniously thrown backwards onto the leather couch with him on top of her. "I said strip," he hissed in a menacing voice, his eyes burning a deep red the likes of which Serena had never seen. Without another word, Nuada tore her shirt down the front, shoving it aside and jerking her bra down to expose breasts already pert with anticipation.

His mouth closed around a darkened nub just as he wrenched her thighs apart, impaling himself in her flesh while sinking his teeth into her breast hard enough to draw blood, paying her back for the bite she'd given to him. The whore wore no panties, and the half zipped skirt was shoved to her waist as Nuada grabbed her legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he began to drive into her, stretching her flesh as he slammed into her again and again and again. Desperate to find relief from the chill that had consumed him, Nuada reached out to her mind, but found nothing more than a repulsive jumble of putrid sex and greedy desires. It made him want to retch, the offensive contrast between the werewolf's dark thoughts and the pure comfort he found with Grace gnawing at his mind like a rabid dog.

Holding her down at the shoulders, Nuada closed his eyes, concentrating on nothing but the heat of her channel as it gripped him, slowing his strokes from their frantic level to one of slow enjoyment, jerking himself from her mind and retreating into his own, returning to memories of Grace and imagining it was her laying beneath him and not some pitiful prostitute. Enveloping his very being in memories of the human he wanted, Nuada immersed himself in thoughts of their time together in the shower, in his bed . . . he had found comfort with Grace the likes he had never before experienced with any creature, and he dreamed he was experiencing it again.

Throwing his head back, Nuada could almost feel the heat of the water running down his back, actual sweat beginning to bead his forehead as those narrow hips rocked in a rhythm old as time, plunging himself into Serena again and again – only in his mind, that was not Serena – in his mind, that was Grace, and he could literally feel those teasing tanned fingers brushing against his flesh, a delicate mouth tracing along his neck, nibbling at his ear . . . he could taste the strange sweetness of her mouth against his lips, the scent of tangerines and flowers creeping from his very soul to waft around him. It was everything he wanted at that very moment, and when he sank himself to the hilt one last time, spewing his seed deep into the body curling beneath him, he retched out a single word – Erulissë – and had it really been Grace beneath him, it would have been perfect.


	24. Many Happy Returns

Chapter 24 – Many Happy Returns

Ten Days. Ten days weren't even a millisecond in a life that had lasted as long as Nuada's, but it seemed like a hundred years had passed since he saw Grace. Her failure to return had reduced her supernatural guardian to a ticking time bomb, and as he paced the parking lot of Fangtasia, the timer was counting down dangerously low. Either Grace was going to return tonight, or Nuada was going to cave and go drag her out of that damn hotel room across town, and he might very well kill Cairbre before he left . . . because thanks to that damn elven blocking spell, Nuada felt as if his very soul was encased in a block of ice, and he needed relief.

Inside the building, Eric Northman's mood was not much better than his friend's, and the vampire had already decided if Nuada wanted to go hunt Grace down, he was ready and willing to help – and if Nuada had confessed that he knew where Grace was, no doubt Eric already would have. No matter how well intentioned his phone call may have been, the idea that Grace ultimately left because of something he did was deeply disturbing, because Eric had never, ever meant to stir up such a world of trouble between his friend and the girl he stood guardian over – or between himself and that girl either. Grace abandoning his house, and possibly not returning to participate in his Christmas surprise were tearing at Eric's very soul, and like Nuada, he needed relief.

Fortunately, that Friday night was indeed going to provide their much-needed relief, or at least Amarande Nuada secretly suspected as much as he paced the back parking lot, returning to the spot where Grace was originally attacked again and again. He'd come outside praying the cold air would clear his head, knowing from the dampness lingering on the breeze that it would rain later and feeling thankful – it would suit his mood. The loud music inside was torturing him, and he was positive if he heard one more Christmas song, he would be physically sick. His kind did not celebrate human holidays, most supernatural creatures didn't, and he was desperate to escape the strange bubbly happiness that seemed to have overtaken each and every human he saw. Nuada didn't even like humans, none save one, and he was hoping like hell his interpretations of that devious little woman's actions had been correct.

When Kelen obtained the information he requested from Grace's financial records and shoved it under his nose several days ago, Nuada had been surprised – no, actually he'd been stunned, although if you'd seen the slight smile that caught his mouth you wouldn't have known it. If Grace was nothing else, she was thorough to a fault, devious as they came, and entirely sarcastic to almost unfathomable levels – and the information on those papers proved her impromptu exit from that apartment to be a hefty dose of the same.

Nuada actually chuckled as he stared at the copies of her credit card receipts, knowing she'd done it just to taunt him. That spiteful little creature had booked herself a luxury suite at the very same hotel she'd come to stay in when she originally came to Shreveport back in September. Hell, she'd even requested the same damn room number – and gotten it – meaning that she was now holed up in the very same room where he'd gone and dutifully packed her clothes after she'd been taken to Rivendell – and she knew it. She was just daring him to figure it out and come get her, but Nuada wasn't taking the bait – not yet anyway – because the way he had this figured, if she intended to finish out her original vacation, she would stay gone for ten days, and that meant she'd come home today . . . and by god, he would certainly be waiting.

Glancing at the Rolex he never wore, Nuada realized it was growing increasingly late, and kicked the gravel in disgust. His heart was beginning to race in anticipation, and he glared at the gravel parking lot, mentally willing it to produce her, but finding only darkness and the muffled sounds of music. Kelen contact him earlier, relaying how Grace spent the day with Sookie. The guardian had trailed them for hours, finally reporting some hour before that they had now left the hotel together, and asking Nuada if he wished his surveillance to continue – but Nuada had declined. He was positive they were heading to Fangtasia, and he'd expected that black Cadillac to be parked in the spot beside Eric's Corvette by now . . . but it wasn't . . . and Nuada was now silently cursing himself, praying he hadn't been wrong.

Slipping into the shadows, he sought to collect himself, easing around the parking lot as he had done so many other nights, allowing the darkness to comfort his soul. His path always followed the same route and this night was no different, save when he reached the far corner and turned back toward the back entrance. There was a huge black Cadillac Escalade parked right by the front door, and while he'd run his eyes over the similar truck that was more often than not parked somewhere in front of the bar every night, that particular truck with its strange custom details was unmistakable. It was the only one on earth that belonged to Grace, and it was indeed parked in the lot of Fangtasia – she just happened to be parked in front!

Nuada quickly headed for the door, wishing more than anything Eric Northman wasn't a vampire and he could give his friend a little mental head's up, but it would've have mattered - Eric already knew Grace had returned . . .

The sheriff of Area 5 had tried hard to occupy himself tonight as well, taking his mind off Grace and his house by burying himself in deep conversation with his underling, Bill. Theirs was a unique relationship since Bill used to date Sookie, and now Eric dated Sookie, but they still had business interests. Bill had been appointed investigator of Area 5, and Eric was Sheriff so there was always something to discuss. Local business combined with the not so long past takeover of Louisiana by the Vampire King of Nevada kept them both busier than they'd like to be, and this was one of the rare quiet moments they'd actually found to catch up.

The pair had been in the office for hours, the only thing brightening Eric's somber mood the call he received from Sookie a little earlier. It was nothing short of a miracle, but she managed to get the night off from Merlotte's. It was rare that she ever got a Friday night off, particularly around the holidays, and she was coming to Fangtasia to see Eric. He was thrilled, and he was anxious to finish with Bill before she got there, so he was pushing for their conversation to be over soon.

Grace and Sookie were pushing for their charade to be over too. Revenge was a sweet thing, but the pair had tasted enough of it. Nuada wasn't the only one who'd spent the past ten days in hell, and when Sookie met Grace that morning in the luxury hotel suite, she was more than ready to go see Nuada that night. It wasn't nearly time yet, so the girls spent a marvelous day at the day spa, enjoying every pampering luxury possible then returning to that obnoxious hotel room to gorge on room service, sip champagne then dress themselves in the stunning finery that was the new clothes they'd purchased. They looked more like two runway models than two cousins when they slipped into that elevator to leave, and when that Escalade pulled up to the front door of Fangtasia and they slid out, even Pam had to look twice.

The attractive blonde vampire was standing out front enjoying a quiet moment as she looked over the incoming patrons, but she knew those peaceful moments were over for tonight as soon as she saw that breathtaking pair walk up. "You're going to make my night again!" was all the stunned vampire could managed as they approached the door. Her bright blue eyes were taking in every inch of both girls in slightly twisted appreciation, and Pam's next comment really disturbed them. "I'm gonna go get my new camcorder!"

Grace was nervous already, and Pam's words didn't help. Her eyes were frantically searching that parking lot for a black Range Rover that simply was not there, although she'd seen that damn obnoxious red Corvette sitting in the back lot plain as day when she pulled in. Even the gravel crunching under her feet was upsetting Grace as her mind swung wildly from memories of being attacked, to standing in it kissing Nuada to slamming Logan down onto it.

Freezing in place, Grace would have never gone inside if not for Sookie's reassuring hand on her arm. "You'll be fine," she whispered to Grace as they carefully stepped through the door.

Eric was conspicuously absent from his huge throne like chair but Sookie wanted to see him first, and they were both anxiously looking around for the men they so carefully prepared to see when Grace spotted a beautiful man with long blonde hair headed their way. Unfortunately, this was absolutely not the time Grace wanted to be approached by Logan, but she could clearly see him making his way across that dance floor to greet her. Clamping her hand on Sookie's arm for a change, Grace hissed under her breath. "Get me away from here. Logan is heading this way!"

Suddenly Grace found herself being nearly dragged down the hall toward the entrance to Eric's private office, while unbeknownst to them, Pam silently intercepted the gorgeous vampire behind them. She was polite and gracious, but she firmly steered him in another direction. Her request was nonspecific, but her point was clear. Sookie and Grace were here to see Eric. Grace would need a little time alone tonight before Logan approached her – he needed to walk away.

When the girls slipped down the hall they found the office door open, and saying nothing, they peeped inside. Eric was there alright, and he was lost in conversation with Bill about something. Sensing they weren't alone, the vampires glanced up to see the two cousins suddenly filling the doorway and Eric Northman damn near fell out of that office chair he liked to lean so far back in. Not only from the way Sookie looked, but for a whole list of other reasons – her hair, her clothes, her cousin! Yes, her cousin! Grace had returned from oblivion and she was standing beside Sookie dressed to the nines and looking good enough to eat. Damn I reckon, this was gonna get interesting!

Quickly snatching his feet off the corner of that desk, Eric immediately came to his feet as Pam silently slipped down the hall to observe them. "Come in ladies." He offered graciously, more than pleased when Sookie came around the desk to slide into his arms and plant a lingering kiss on those cool rosy lips of his. Grace gave the cozy couple an impatient look, then glared at Bill. She didn't come here for a love lesson, and she wanted to know where Nuada was. Bill being there was an added distraction, and a little more than her raw nerves were prepared for.

Grace hated Bill with every fiber in her body. She couldn't stand to even look at him, so she didn't, turning her back and stalking to the corner for a far too intent contemplation of a TrueBlood advertising poster. Listening to Eric to coo and preen over Sookie and her stunning new look, Grace found herself irritated beyond belief – that asshole vampire who'd caused her so many damn problems hadn't even spoken to her – and Nuada was nowhere to be found! Finally, Grace couldn't stand it anymore, turning back around to not so politely consider the threesome hanging out behind that big wood desk. Eric was back in his chair with Sookie plopped in his lap, while Bill was staring at Sookie like a lollipop. It was disgusting.

"I have to get out of here. The company is making me nauseous," Grace murmured to Sookie, turning toward the door.

Eric glanced up at her insult, and Bill frowned. "What have I ever done to you, Grace?" he demanded, easing from his perch on the window ledge behind Eric's desk. His strange southern accent was very different from Grace's, but that sarcastic tone was unmistakable.

Grace stopped her exit to glare at him, throwing him a look of utter contempt just as the door behind her became filled with yet another body. "Oh gee Bill, I don't know. I guess it's because you let yourself get paid to screw my cousin."

Bill's mouth opened to spit back what would have been a most impolite answer, but Eric's hand on his leg behind that desk stopped him. "Grace, you really should be nicer!" Eric chided her with a teasing grin, actually chuckling softly. He loved to hear her snipe at Bill – it just made his day! "You look too good tonight to ruin it with that foul little mouth of yours, and you've been here less than five minutes, so you certainly aren't gonna leave yet, so just get yourself over to this chair and sit down. Bill was just on his way out."

Well that was enough to make Grace snicker – being chosen over Bill made her day, and she'd gladly watch that asshole of a vamp underling get kicked to the curb. Gloating, she crossed her arms over her chest and watched Bill cut her a venomous glance then head toward the door, but unfortunately, that doorway was full.

After spotting her truck, Nuada knew Grace was there somewhere, and the obvious choice after a quick glance around the bar was Eric's office. Unfortunately, just as he went to step through that door, he felt a hand grasp his arm, and it was the very, very last thing he needed right then. Truth be known, Nuada hadn't just gone outside to get away from his thoughts of Grace. He'd been tortured by an overly anxious and obviously enamored female vampire for several nights now. She was persistent if she wasn't anything else, and that vampire was determined to get a piece of his unusually fine body in the worst possible way. It had become her mission to watch his every move, and she'd spotted Nuada the instant he walked through the front door, carefully tracking him through the bar and down the hall to Eric's office. It was the worst timing imaginable for Nuada, but she'd just planted a insistent hand on that guardian's arm when Grace turned around, and she was not impressed to be sure.

If the look Grace gave Nuada was a cold one the afternoon she found that bite on his neck during Alcide Herveaux's meeting, it paled in comparison to the one he got right then, and both he and that vampire could clearly see the look of possession and rage that tore over her face. It was instantaneous, and suddenly the tension between Grace and Bill was nothing, because the air got so thick as Nuada and Grace considered each other you could've cut it with a knife. His eyes lit up like a bonfire, while Grace's turned completely black – only they weren't looking at him – they were locked on that horny vampire clinging to his arm. Within seconds those faint blue flickers were tracing beneath her skin, and that cute little brunette vampire quickly realized she'd be much better off anywhere other than there, so jerking her hand off Nuada's arm, she was down the hall and out the back entrance so fast you couldn't even see her move, gladly leaving the blond creature to Grace.

Amazingly, Grace didn't lose her temper. Closing her eyes against the very sight of Nuada, she fought for control, determined she'd win yet again, forcing her mind to count those damn numbers slowly backwards from 25 right down to 0 again. When she opened them again, she remained perfectly calm. The only sign of her anger was the little blue flickers tracing under her skin . . . well . . . that and the unbelievable words that came tumbling out of her mouth when she turned back to Bill. "You know what? I really should take Eric's advice and be nicer. After all, there's no reason to hate you for what you've done - It's normal for men around here to get paid to fuck somebody."

Bill's eyes widened in disbelief, but he wisely offered no comeback, while Sookie's hand flew to her mouth positive her and Nuada were about to wage holy hell in that office. Eric was thinking the same thing, and he quickly pushed Sookie from his lap and came to his feet, hoping he was fast enough to grab Grace before she went after Nuada or killed that girl who'd somehow disappeared. Surprisingly though, Grace did nothing of the sort. She simply glared at Nuada while he stood there frozen in shock by what she'd just said, then slipped right past him and headed out the back door.

What she'd hoped to be the perfect evening had shaped up to be a complete disaster in under fifteen minutes, and as she walked around the building, Grace found herself contemplating several things - the most obvious being that she should never set foot in Fangtasia again because obviously she was cursed when it came to that damn vampire bar! She'd been attacked in the parking lot, attacked in the bathroom, flirted with by Logan, tormented by Bill, and now tonight, she'd gotten the cherry on top - Nuada being hung on by a vampire. It just wasn't a happy place for her, and Grace knew she needed to leave – or at the very, very least go smoke a pack or two of cigarettes.

Seething and silently counting, Grace fought to remain calm as she headed around the corner of the building into the front parking lot. Her eyes weren't even focusing on the black beast she drove until she was right on top of it, still too full of images of Nuada with that damn brunette to see anything else, but when Grace glanced up, she suddenly realized that not only had the female vampire who was just hanging off Nuada's arm slipped out the back door and returned to the front door herself, that freaking little brunette fang wielder was touching her truck – actually leaning against the elaborately tooled custom black grill and brush guard of her damn Escalade while she waited in line to go back inside.

Stunned into complete disbelief, it took Grace's mind a second to digest what her eyes were seeing, and if she hadn't been worried about scratching her truck, she would've squashed that vampire like a bug against the very grill she was leaned against. The fires of hell weren't hotter than the blue flames that traced over Grace, and the venomous threat that came rolling across the parking lot left very little doubt as to her intentions. "You fucking bitch! If you ever touch my god damned truck or Nuada again I swear I'll kill you!" she spat out furiously.

Grace said it loud enough for every creature in that parking lot to hear, and when the little dark haired vamp tramp snapped her head round it was with fangs bared – but she was baring them to all the wrong people, because Grace was no longer alone – not that she needed the help. Hot on her heels, Sookie, Nuada, Pam and Eric Northman were all now standing behind Grace, adding an entire collection of disapproving glares to the black eyed stare Grace had locked on the offending "Nuada groper". It was quite a compelling presence, and one that easily convinced that vampire she needed to get the hell away from there – now – so with no more than a blaze of tight leather and bouncy curls, she was gone.

The impromptu departure did very little to ease Grace's anger, but it delighted Amarande Nuada to no end. The seething fury and undeniable jealousy in Grace's voice that another woman had dared to touch him, proved she most certainly did care for him very much, and Nuada was actually smiling slightly when he looked back at Eric, gloating. Human jealousy was showing itself to be a magnificent thing, but Eric Northman would have begged to disagree, convinced Grace was pissed again and intending to dive into that truck and haul ass – and that was something Eric had no intentions of allowing. He would personally rip the tires and shocks off her truck while she watched if that's what it took, but Grace's ass was never gonna touch the leather of a truck seat before he talked to her this night!

Wrongfully interpreting Grace heading round her truck to get her cigarettes as an attempted departure, Eric overreacted, shadowing himself around the truck to grab hold of Grace in what was becoming an all too familiar submission hold – and needless to say, it did not go over well. Grace had remained pretty calm up to that point, all things considered, but when those big pale arms clamped round her, she turned on that vampire like a wild animal, tearing herself out of his grasp only to flip around and jump right in his face. "You better take your freaking hands off me, dead man!" she hissed up at him. "If it wasn't for you and your god damned mouth, none of this shit would've happened. I wouldn't be at your stupid bar watching some fangbanger slut hang on Nuada, I'd be home wallowing on him myself!"

Eric didn't even have a chance to say anything back to Grace before Nuada pushed past him. He didn't say one word, just wrapped two black silk clad arms around Grace and dragged her against his chest where he kissed her breathless, perfectly content to let that little human wallow on him all she damn well wanted. It certainly wasn't what Eric or Sookie were expecting, but Grace sure as hell liked it. She was stunned by everything that just happened, but when she felt Nuada's lips on hers, her body simply melted. It took less than a second for her hands to be buried under that thick curtain of gold satin, and she kissed him back just as desperately as he was kissing her. The anger in her vanished as he cradled her against his chest, slowly being replaced by white hot desire and the deepest affection imaginable for the gorgeous man holding her in his arms.

When Nuada managed to tear his lips away, Grace was completely overwhelmed and as enamored by him as she ever had been. Pewter eyes soothed by the heat of desire opened to meet his, that pair of emeralds burning with an inner fire as they once again ran over the woman who tormented him so. They stared at each other for a long moment, so pleased to be together again, neither could imagine turning the other loose. "Im gelir ceni ad lín - I am very happy to see you again, Erulissë," he whispered softly, unable to resist pressing his face into her hand as Grace slipped it out of his hair to cradle that flawless porcelain cheek.

"I missed you too," Grace told him softly, her southern drawl heavy and sultry on the damp night air as she brushed a tempting finger over his bottom lip. Her eyes were locked on his, her entire being oblivious to anything or anyone else in the world but the man in front of her. Watching them, it seemed as if they were both in a daze as they began to kiss again, Grace's hands on his face and Nuada's arms wrapped around her body as they clung to each other shamelessly in the parking lot of Fangtasia. It became evident that Nuada had forgotten where he was when one hand found its way down her thigh and the other one began creeping up the side of her shirt, and Eric cleared his throat behind them loud enough for everyone within fifty feet to hear him to try and interrupt his friend's concentration.

The vampire had to do it twice before Nuada acknowledged him, and Eric found himself wondering if Grace was indeed going to end up back on the hood of a vehicle with a man before the night was over. "You two need to come inside or get a room," he told them through a sly grin, the slight touch of humor in his voice telling them he approved. His arm was firmly wrapped around Sookie, and Eric was ready to do a little hand wandering of his own – the "get a room" idea suited him perfectly at that very moment.

"Sorry, already checked out," Grace told Eric after forcing herself to turn Nuada's face loose. She was stuck to his side as they turned to face their friends, their hands naturally sliding into one another, Nuada's arm still firmly planted around her waist.

"Been hiding in a hotel have we?" Eric asked curiously, his expression intent as he considered her revealing statement.

"As a matter of fact I have," Grace answered. "I'm entitled to finish my vacation if I'd like."

Nuada slid her a disapproving look, but he didn't mean it and Grace knew he didn't. His hand came up to catch her face, pressing it against his shoulder as he leaned to plant a firm kiss on her forehead. "It does not matter where Erulissë has been, only that she is here now."

The next several hours passed pleasantly enough, the two couples wrapped snugly into the farthest corner booth, chatting of nothing while sipping on drinks and thoroughly enjoying each other's company. No one said anything about Grace's hiatus, knowing that was one topic better left to another time. She was obviously very happy to be back, and Nuada was so pleased he was simply beaming as she snuggled against him. At some point, Sookie excused herself to the restroom and Eric invited Grace and Nuada to his office. There was something important he needed to ask of her, and he couldn't do it in the open expanse of the general public.

Grace said nothing, but Nuada didn't miss the frown that touched her face as he gently led her through the crowd behind Eric. He knew this favor Eric wanted to ask of her, and he had no idea what her reaction would be. Soon enough, the threesome was returned to Eric's office, thankfully under different circumstances than earlier, and Eric suddenly seemed a bit nervous as he sank to sit behind that big wood desk.

"Grace, I have a most important favor to ask of you," he said somewhat uncertainly. "I know you are very unhappy with me right now, and while I intend to beg you on bended knee to finish work on my home, I have something much more important I require your assistance with.'

Slipping to sit in one of the chairs, Grace was instantly on the defensive. They might be having a very pleasant evening, but she and Nuada had spoken of nothing yet. There was no guarantee that this truce between them would even last the night. Crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes iced right over as she stared back at Eric, positive she would not like this thing he intended to ask her for.

His eyes were darting all over the room, and Grace could tell he was struggling to find the words to talk to her, suddenly wondering if the old vampire actually had it in him or not. He looked as close to terrified as a dead man could, and Grace wondered if he was about to tell her the world was coming to an end, but that wasn't his only problem . . . If he wanted to ask her something in private, he needed to hurry up, because it didn't take Sookie that damn long to go to the bathroom! Eric had actually taken care of that, sending Pam to carefully intercept his girlfriend and keep her away until that office door reopened.

Finally, she couldn't take watching him wiggle in that office chair any longer. "You gonna tell me what you want dead man, or are you just hoping I'll read you mind?" Grace asked sarcastically, her eyes and her expression demanding him to start talking and now. "Because I'm afraid that particular talent belongs to my cousin, not me."

Eric steadied himself in the chair, settling forward as he clasped his hands in front of him, his eyes intent on hers as he began to speak. "I would like to invite you to Fangtasia on Christmas Eve," Eric told her in an oddly strained voice. "It is our very first Christmas Party and I would be honored if you would come." Grace looked at him like he was a bit daft, knowing that couldn't possibly be why he just dragged her in this office. Nuada's hand had almost imperceptibly tightened on her shoulder, and Grace's eyebrows rose slightly over glittering grey eyes as she watched him, waiting for the punch line she knew was coming.

"It simply would not be right if you are not here," he told her, obviously choosing his words very carefully, "when I ask Sookie to be my wife."

Well, neither OSM or WTF began to touch that show stopping revalation, and Grace simply sat there staring at Eric blankly, completely incapable of saying anything she was in such a deep state of shock. Sookie loved Eric, but it had never, ever occurred to Grace that she'd marry him . . . and that wasn't the thought suddenly hurling itself against every neuron in her brain anyway. Lord Elrond's speech was. Eric wasn't exactly immortal the way elves were, but he was sure as hell gonna be around heaps longer than her cousin was, so what was so different about her cousin spending her life with a vampire, than Grace spending hers with Nuada or Haldir? How was one type of supernatural creature being with a mortal any different than another? What was going to happen when Sookie began to grow old, or even died?

After a few moments of awkward silence, Nuada leaned over slightly to look in her face. "Erulissë, are you going to answer Eric?" he prodded gently. He had a reassuring hand resting on her shoulder, but he was still blocked from her thoughts by that damn spell on Haldir's pendant, and like Eric, he was most interested to her Grace's thoughts about the vampire's idea . . . but unfortunately, Grace didn't intend to tell them.

"I gladly ask for your blessings on our union as well," Eric said persuasively. "I certainly hope you approve of my plans Grace."

Still, Grace still said nothing. At that particular moment she didn't approve of anything, and her face was creased into the deepest frown imaginable as no less than ten thousand thoughts competed for attention in her brain. It was quickly becoming a very uncomfortable situation, but thankfully she was rescued before being forced to answer by the door opening behind her. Pam had failed in her mission to distract Sookie, and at that very moment the bubbly blonde came busting in with a giant smile on her face, irking Eric to no end, but thrilling Grace to death. Thanking the heavens above that she didn't have to come up with some socially proper answer for Eric right then, Grace was out of her chair instantly and headed for the door again. "Please excuse me," she muttered, heading down the hall for the bathroom. More than anything on earth, she needed a few minutes to herself.

Embarrassed by Grace's ungracious behavior, Nuada didn't know what to do. He couldn't read her thoughts, but the guardian knew something about Eric's words tore at Grace and it didn't necessarily have a thing to do with Sookie. Eric was gathering that himself, but thankfully, the blonde waitress herself was oblivious to the tense atmosphere in the room and Eric handled it perfectly, making his way around the desk and leading his beautiful soon to be fiancée back toward the corner booth.

Both of those men's actions were smooth as silk, but in that bathroom Grace felt like a rag that just got run over in the highway. Of all the shit to come walking back into tonight, first it had been Nuada and his groper vamp, and now Eric Northman was planning to ask Sookie to marry him? What the hell! Was there some damn curse barcoded on her ass that she wasn't aware of that just required every visit to this place to become a living hell, or was she just missing something? Because that was certainly the way it seemed . . . and marriage? A marriage between her cousin and a vampire . . . a VAMPIRE? Lord have mercy - Grace had fought hard, hard, hard to accept that they even existed, but the idea of her closest friend spending every night in the bed beside one was a bit disconcerting to say the very least – and what about Elrond's words of warning? If immortal / mortal relationships didn't work in other realms, just what was going to make one work in Shreveport, Louisiana?

Frowning desperately, she paced a bit, knowing if she stayed much longer Sookie would come looking for her thinking she'd fallen in and drowned, so she fought to calm herself, washing her hands a few times in freezing water then straightening her clothes and picking at her hair before reluctantly coming back out. The idea of going back to that table and pretending everything was normal was gonna be hard, and Grace was fighting to force a pleasant look, but things only got worse when she didn't take three steps and got accosted by Logan. He'd seen her head that way, and took the opportunity to perch himself nearby and wait for her to emerge.

"Grace?" he called to her as she came by.

Lost in thought, it took Grace a minute for his voice to register. She turned with an absent look on her face, then realized who was talking to her. "Hello Logan," she answered politely. "It's good to see you again."

He was studying her intently again, those dark green eyes running over every inch of those leopard print tights, short black leather miniskirt and matching leopard print shirt. He liked what he saw. "You're looking quite nice this evening." That soft voice purred, and Grace knew he wanted to do a whole lot more than look at her.

"I'm . . . right in the middle of something right now," she finally told him, praying Nuada didn't come looking for her, because given the possessive way he'd been holding on to her all night, it wasn't gonna be pretty if he found her jacked up in that dark hallway with a good looking long blond haired vampire. "We'll talk some other time." Passing him an apologetic look, she quickly brushed past him and continued back to the corner booth. Logan watched her go with intense interest, knowing they were going to be talking much, much sooner than Grace realized.

When Grace reappeared at the corner booth, Sookie was still smiling as she told Eric and Nuada about her week at Merlotte's, and Grace silently returned to her now familiar position beside Nuada. Grace was as sweet and polite as she'd ever been, but Nuada could sense a deep change in Grace. She wasn't relaxed or happy anymore, she was tense, strained and obviously preoccupied. Her participation in the conversation became limited, and while Sookie didn't seem to notice, Nuada became worried about her. Obviously the woman he stood guard over was not impressed with his friend's plans.

At some point the music slowed, and both Nuada and Eric slid the girls from their booth, intending to take them out to the dance floor, but Grace found herself stunned when Eric Northman reached for her hand instead of Nuada, and gently led her onto the floor. Now Eric may have sucked the blood out of her body, but that didn't mean she wanted his body pressed against hers and he could have been holding a piece of plywood and it would have been more limber.

"Don't worry Grace. I'm not going to bite you," he told her quietly, and Grace literally cringed – it wouldn't be the first time if he did. This was torment on a whole new level, and Grace found it impossible to relax as his gorgeous but cool body pressed against hers. "I'm very glad to see you back this evening, and very glad to see you with Nuada again. He missed you." Those blue eyes were trained on her face as Eric spoke, and Grace was doing everything possible to avoid his gaze. She heard his words, but she was much too distracted to appreciate them.

"Please tell me you approve," he continued softly. "I want you to help me make this the most perfect occasion ever. It's the most important thing I've ever done, and I'd be deeply indebted to you if you'll agree to help." His voice was pleading now, almost begging in its tone, and Grace knew he was sincere.

He was also squeezing her like a tomato in the grocery store to prove his point, and as Grace glanced around, she could see Logan standing well off to the far side of the dance floor, his green eyes trained on her every move. It was eerie, and it only got worse when Eric slowly moved her around and she felt Nuada's eyes raking over her ass as he held Sookie behind her. Grace felt like she had a pack of hungry vultures fighting over her innards, and she wanted nothing more than to get the hell off that dance floor – and she was quickly approaching the place where she'd do or say anything to make that happen. "What do you want from me Eric?" Grace asked brusquely, her tone even but touched with sarcasm. "You want me to jump up and down and tell you I'm thrilled?"

Eric frowned down at her, his eyes narrowing. "It would certainly be better than the cold indifference I'm getting right now," he whispered in her ear, tightening his grip even more.

Taking her mind and giving him a no so gentle squeeze in return as a reminder to back the fuck off, Grace stared up at him, wishing just once she had the power to read a mind. Up until thirty minutes ago, she'd never considered the idea of a human marrying a vampire, but outside of Elrond's morbid warning, she didn't see just what was so wrong with it. If the damn man loved Sookie and treated her well, what more could the girl ever hope for? And judging from the house he was building and the obvious nervousness seeping from him at that very moment, Eric Northman obviously did love Sookie Stackhouse – very much.

"Alright Eric, I'm gonna ask you one more time. What do you want from me?" Grace repeated.

Eric was still frowning slightly, and he couldn't figure out what was eating at Grace so much. "No . . . I'm not telling you what I want," he told her suddenly, "not until you tell me why the idea upsets you so much first. There's more to the way you're acting than me asking Sookie to marry me isn't there?"

Now Grace was frowning. Yes, there certainly was, but the last time she confided in Eric, it didn't turn out very well for her now did it?

"Talk to me Grace," he insisted firmly. "I think you already found out what happens when you hide things."

Boy that comment got a frown, and it very nearly got Eric a whole lot more. Grace didn't need to be reminded how Nuada shoved her against that refrigerator and threatened to tear her thoughts from her very soul. Thanks, but she had no problem remembering that night on her own, and she didn't need any help being reminded of the rest of the conversation that prompted that little episode either – immortal creatures did not cohabitate with mortals – it just didn't work out. "Don't push me tonight, Eric," Grace warned him softly but firmly. "I know you love Sookie, but what happens later? What happens when she gets old? What happens when you get tired of her?"

Her voice was very soft and discreet, but he could clearly hear the pain and concern in her voice, and Eric knew Grace worried desperately for her cousin. It actually made him feel good that she was so concerned. "Grace, please believe me. I love Sookie more than anything else in the world, and I swear I'll never leave her . . . I will stay by her side until the day she dies."

Eric wasn't even attempting to dance anymore, just standing in the middle of the dance floor staring down at Grace, desperately needing her approval, while Grace was starting right back at him, knowing that thousand year old vampire better be telling the truth, because if he wasn't she would make him one very sorry somebody for sure. "If you're telling the truth Eric, and I think you are, I hope ya'll are very happy together," Grace finally answered, seeing the instant relief that crossed his face as he crushed her against him in a huge bear hug.

"Thanks what I've been waiting to hear," he whispered, instantly thrilled as he returned to casually dancing, hoping Sookie didn't catch any part of their little stare down. "And listen, I will do absolutely anything you want, if you'll just please help me get everything ready," he said softly, putting his mouth to her ear. "I've got Sookie's favorite band coming, and I'm picking up the ring next Tuesday, but Logan's gonna need help getting the flowers and the cake picked out, and Sookie's gonna need something really nice to wear, so I want you to take her shopping, but don't worry, I'll pay for it all and maybe after that . . ."

"After that, you can shut up," Grace hissed up at him firmly. "You're gushing and it's disgusting! Good lord, you're gonna have a stroke, and you're already dead! Have you forgotten where you're at, and who's standing less than ten feet from you?" Damn, she thought the old vampire got worked up over that house, but it was nothing compared to how freaked out he was getting over this damn Christmas engagement party!

Grace was glaring up at him, and Eric managed to rein himself in, suddenly realizing he was indeed spouting off at the mouth in the middle of the dance floor in front of a gigantic group of mostly supernatural creatures, most of whom possessed a highly elevated sense of hearing. "I'll call you," he told her in a much more controlled voice. "We'll talk then . . . and Grace, I'm really glad you came back."

************************************

Several hours later, Grace was really happy she'd come back too. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning, and after having what turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant evening at Fangtasia, she was back in the luxury apartment, cold air in her face as she dug through the refrigerator. She'd packed her things before she left the hotel, and her suitcases were now returned to their original place, stashed under the bed in the cream bedroom, Nuada even going so far as to unpack her clothes and help arrange them in the drawers. Grace had said nothing, just smiling and laughing at him, same as she had when he'd climbed into that black Escalade when it left Fangtasia, refusing to allow her out of his sight again. Grace had the very distinct impression the man knew she was returning tonight . . . and before it was over, she intended to find out how . . . but only after she got something to eat.

Bent over with her miniskirt hiked to kingdom come, Grace had a Diet Dr. Pepper in one hand, a slice of cheese in her mouth, and an orange in her other, when she suddenly felt an extremely firm body pressed against the back of hers. "Hmmmp?" she grunted, incapable of even getting the cheese out of her mouth as two pale muscular arms pulled her upright. The body she found herself pressed up against was firm in more ways than one, and Grace could easily guess what Nuada was thinking about as one hand began sneaking down her thigh toward the hem of that skirt while the other one went ghosting across her ribs to creep up her blouse.

"I have missed you, Erulissë," Nuada whispered, hot breath against the back of her neck and her ear as warm velvety lips found the gentle slope of her shoulder. Soon, he was nibbling a little trail down the crease of her spine, tiny bites against her flesh being licked by his tongue and Grace was about to choke on that damn piece of cheese. She didn't have one place to sit anything down and it was awkward to say the least. The orange finally lost, finding itself tossed on the floor as Grace tried to gently throw the drink can onto the countertop, praying it didn't roll off and explode when it hit the floor. Grabbing the cheese with her hand, she jerked it out of her mouth and managed to worm her way around in Nuada's arms.

"I thought you told me on the way home we weren't doing this," Grace told him, smoldering grey eyes meeting what could only be described as the stare of a hungry lion coming back at her, because Nuada looked like he was going to eat her alive.

Nuada didn't say one word, taking that piece of cheese out of her hand and throwing it across the room before taking both of her hands in his and pinning her against that refrigerator. This seemed to be some type of strange habit they were developing, and Grace was beginning to look at that damn refrigerator in a whole new way. Nuada's nose was now running from the lowest point of her v-neck top up across her collarbone, grazing it's way up her neck before gently tickling against her own. "We are not," he whispered, catching her earlobe between his teeth while ever so gently grinding his hips against hers.

Grace couldn't help that tiny little gasp that escaped her, or that soft flush that began creeping over her as the heat from her stomach slowly spread southward. "Then you better stop," she rasped out in return.

"You sprayed my bed with your perfume Erulissë . . . You wanted me to remember what it feels like to be without you . . . is that not right Lirimaer? You want me to suffer without you?" Nuada's voice was raw with the hunger of passion, and Grace could hardly contain herself. She'd gotten the simplest of speeches from Nuada on the way home - they would talk tomorrow morning, they'd both been drinking at the club and tonight was not the best time for a serious conversation. They also agreed, there would be no hanky panky tonight . . . or did he lie?

"I don't ever want to see you suffer," Grace told him softly, her voice torn by need but undercut by seriousness. Pure blue flickers of heat burned in the depths of her eyes as she searched his face, silently telling him she meant what she was telling him. "I never want to see you hurt again Nuada."

That struck a nerve, and Grace could see the immediate change in his face. Nuada was serious the night he told her no one ever cared for him before, and it wasn't something he knew how to accept. His expression became uncertain, his face clouded by emotion as he considered her words. He was already fighting the worst battle of the ages within himself, trying to somehow reconcile his burning feelings for the woman in front of him with the knowledge he could seriously harm her if he couldn't carefully control his passion against her. Grace was about to drive him insane.

He eased against her, his demeanor changing somehow. He pulled his mouth away from her ear, gently pressing his cheek to her cheek as he breathed hard against her. Every inch of that damn perfect body was still pressed against her, his hair thrown across her flesh and Grace could feel muscles rippling across his chest with every breath. "I do not want to see you hurt either, Erulissë," he told her carefully, "that is why we must not do this tonight. I do not know that I could be gentle with you this evening."

That statement ranked right up there with Eric's but in a whole different way. Grace didn't necessarily like it any way but gentle, but she thought she'd learned how to speak a different language she moaned and groaned so many different ways while Nuada had her pinned to that shower wall a few weeks ago. That wasn't particularly gentle, and if he was offering a double dose of that tonight, she couldn't wait!

Unfortunately, his hands were already releasing hers. Nuada was fighting hard, fighting the urge to tear her clothes off and bend her across that kitchen island. Two trembling porcelain hands came to ever so gently cup her face as he captured her lips with his, caressing her mouth softly and thoroughly, his tongue ever so gently exploring every part of her mouth before he slowly pulled it away. "Good night, Erulissë. I am indeed pleased that you have returned, and I look forward to seeing you in the morning," he told her softly, planting one last lingering kiss on her forehead, then he turned away and slowly made his way down the hall to his bedroom and closed the door.

Taking a deep breath, Grace decided she would give it a good fight herself. Considering everything that had happened, jumping into bed together probably wasn't the best idea, and if she could walk away from Haldir, surely she could walk away from Nuada too. Making her way to the bedroom, she brushed her teeth, washed her face and combed her hair, but it did nothing to release the heat that was threatening to cook her from the inside out. She shed her clothes, pulling on the new Victoria Secret babydoll nightie Sookie helped her pick out, but that didn't help either. It only served to remind her how much Nuada liked the similar ensemble in coral, and Grace stood staring in the mirror wondering what Nuada would think about violet chiffon. Traipsing around the room a few times, she ran her fingers over the comforter, rubbed her toes over the soft carpet . . . and wondered if Nuada liked violet chiffon. Pressing her face against the cold glass of the window pane, she listened to the soft splash of rain against it, watching the distant flashes of lightning in the distance . . . and wondered if Nuada liked violet chiffon.

It was a ridiculous question, and one Grace intended to get answered when she slipped through the dark hall and headed to Nuada's room less than thirty minutes later. Checking the door handle, she found it locked but it posed no hindrance to her whatsoever. Her mind worked that catch so fast it was open in under two seconds, not even enough time for Nuada to sit up in the bed from staring at the ceiling before she was beside him. Grace never made a sound, simply eased herself beside him. Her soul needed to be comforted, and she was positive his did too, but sliding against him, Grace still felt incomplete. She couldn't feel his warmth around her, couldn't feel his mental touch within her. Her aura was still blocked from him by the hiding spell.

Slipping the pendant off her neck, Grace turned toward the side table. Slowly she turned her hand over, allowing the pendant to fall from it and as the last link of chain left her palm it was as if the very essence of her flowed out and poured through Nuada. He actually gasped in a rasp breath as her feelings tore through him, her passion, her confusion, her overwhelming desire to protect him. Stunned and shaken, Nuada could only sit in the darkness, overwhelmed that this human woman could care so deeply for a creature such as himself.

The hand that pressed against his chest as she climbed into his lap was small, warm and soft, the one that ran slowly up his cheek delicate and teasing, five fingers grazing their way over his flesh as they made their way to wind in his hair. The kiss planting its warm dampness against his chin was tempting, torturous as it continued toward his ear, teasing the gentle flush of white flames from his flesh as he carefully lay back, drawing her with him, enjoying the slight weight that was her body pressed against him.

"We were supposed to talk in the morning," he reminded her gently, his arms already around her, thoroughly enjoying the fact that she was there.

"How did you know I was coming back tonight?" she whispered, nibbling at his ear the exact same way he'd done her neck earlier, smiling when she heard his breath hitch as she tongued the tip of it, doing it again and again until he squirmed.

"A lucky guess . . . and I tracked you," he admitted, his hands now returning to their former purpose, creeping under the lettuce edge of that nightie to linger against smooth bronzed flesh.

"You don't guess at anything . . . so tell me . . . how'd you do it?" she insisted, pressing him for information just as she was pressing her body against his.

Her voice was almost teasing, not angry, so Nuada humored her, meeting her curious gaze, and answering her questions all the while hoping it did not lead to an argument. "It is what I do, Lirimaer. I am your guardian and it is my responsibility to know where you are and to protect you at all times."

Leaning over him, Grace put her nose to his and stared into those luminous green eyes. The flashes of lightning were illuminating the room, showing the features of his striking face, streaks of long blond hair glowing in the darkness . . . Nuada was such a beautiful creature, and such a mystery as well.

"You didn't answer my question," she prodded. "How did you find me?"

Grace was nibbling at his face, her fingers caressing his cheekbones, tracing his chin and teasing through his hair – all things that were ever so slowly increasing the tension in Nuada, like a spring being slowly cranked tighter and tighter. "Your credit card receipts, it was quite simple actually," he finally told her, stealing a kiss as payment for the answer, capturing her face in his hands and thoroughly plundering her mouth before he released it, then pressing his head into the pillow to stare up at her, soaking in the way those grey eyes smoldered at him afterward.

"Why didn't you come talk to me then," she pouted, passing him her best soulful look that was only partially in jest.

"Your vacation, or didn't you think I'd figure it out?" Nuada answered with a devious grin, determined to keep this light. "I must admit, I'm impressed you even got the same room . . . and you had ten days left, so I thought I'd let you finish them out."

Grace's face turned very serious as she looked down at Nuada, but he intentionally stayed clear of her mind, determined not to steal anything from her she was not ready to share. "I wanted you to come get me," she whispered. "You left me, and you promised you'd never leave . . . but you did it twice."

There was genuine pain in her voice that time, and Nuada's face became as serious as hers, all humor and jesting gone. "You have my sincerest apologies for hurting your feelings if I have done so, but the things you said when we last spoke were quite painful for me, Erulissë. It was a mistake to leave – one I do not intend to repeat – but I hurt to know you could think such things of me, and when I returned you were gone yourself . . . even going so far as to take a blocking spell from Cairbre to hide from me. It did not appear that you were so ready to see me, so I felt it better to let you return on your own."

"And what if I hadn't come to Fangtasia tonight?" Grace asked, studying him intently, her expression telling Nuada much importance rested on his answer.

"I would have been standing over your bed at sunrise, come to claim you and bring you home," he told her firmly. His eyes now burned as they looked up at hers, taking in the gentle flickers running beneath her flesh, feeling the warmth of her aura caressing every inch of his being, erasing every trace of coldness he had suffered during her absence. "What do you want from me, Erulissë?" he asked suddenly. "Saes, please tell me."

Sapphire lightning exploded in her eyes as Grace looked down at him, a clap of thunder shaking the building it sounded so loud as she lowered her mouth to his ear. "I would rather show you," she whispered. Grace said nothing else, but she begged Nuada not to turn her away with every piece of her flesh. The way her bare thighs pressed against his hips, the way that almost imperceptible moan came when he drew a deep breath and pressed himself up against her. Nuada was an altar, and Grace was offering herself to him upon it.

Scandalous palms pooled against the smooth flesh of his sides as she slipped her fingers across each and every rib, counting them as she slid ever lower, meeting every shift of her fingertips with another lingering kiss against his shoulder. His heart raced as her mouth moved down his chest, teasing strokes of wet against his skin as she made her way to the crease of his elbow, suckling that gentle flesh until he groaned, and his breath threatened to stop coming when that mouth shifted to the nearest nipple, tonguing and teasing the peak as her hands dove lower to rake themselves up his thighs, finally coming to gently caress his now full arousal through the thin silk of his pants.

Nuada had never allowed a woman to tease him this way, but from Grace he welcomed it, and he was unable to resist when her hands caught at the waist of his pants. An almost guttural growl escaped him as he lifted his hips, allowing her to slip them off, and when her hands and mouth quickly replaced them, he gasped, his head hard against the pillow, straining against the fire that was consuming him. It seemed that Grace was everywhere and nowhere, a thigh brushing against his calf, hot lips along his thigh, demanding fingers clutching at his hipbones. She worshipped his entire body, every flash of lightning reflecting the hunger in her eyes as she feasted through her touch, and finally he could take no more. Desperate to feel her bare flesh against him again he pulled her close, that beautiful new violet chiffon nightie nothing more than a shadow on the floor within seconds, demanding lips possessing her mouth as careful hands stroked her flesh, yearning to tease her the very same ways, yet avoiding every sexual spot as Nuada fought to retain control.

"Touch me," she finally whispered, her voice raw with passion as she encouraged him to let go, taking his hands in hers and guiding them, leading one to her breast and one to the junction of her thighs. "I want to feel you again," she told him, working his fingers with her own.

Nuada could not suppress his groan of pure satisfaction when she began to knead her breast with his hand, carefully rolling her nipple with his fingers as it stiffened and peaked, and when she began to slowly work his hand across her mound with her own, grunting with every stroke, he was positive he would not survive. "Erulissë, you tease," he moaned, rolling onto his back and leading her carefully on top of him. His very soul burned from needing her, but he wanted Grace to control this, determined she would do this of her own volition . . . and she did . . . seating herself atop him and beginning to roll her hips, rubbing herself down the length of him.

Grace did exactly the same thing he'd done in the shower, coating his shaft with her welcoming dampness, preparing herself to take him, but it was oh so different for Nuada to watch. His eyes spit flames as he studied her face with rapt curiosity, taking in every single emotion as she worked herself against him, wanting to suck her tongue when she licked her lips, panting slightly as she threw her head back and rocked her hips, feeling his chest tighten as she continued to torment herself, caressing his hands against her body, guiding his fingers inside her.

It was one of the most beautifully erotic things Nuada had ever seen, the presence of genuine desire in its purest form. He had possessed so very many creatures in the past, but for the first time ever, Nuada realized that now he was the one being possessed, returning to the strange emotions he experienced the first time they joined, knowing his personal needs were secondary to his desire to please this woman. As he lay sprawled out amidst the luxury of navy silk being teased by the seductive allure of a simple human, he was slowly acknowledging the very same thing Grace did in that hotel room after Haldir left - while he might draw some physical pleasure from his visits to Serena, the tepid heat of lust was absolutely nothing but a pitiful shadow when compared to the fiery heat of true love.

Every inch of his body tingled in anticipation when Grace finally pulled his hands away, stretching herself atop him, and meeting his flaming gaze with her own. The fire that traced beneath their skin now ran wild, animalistic urges dancing together to reflect against the darkness, popping like fireworks with every gentle touch and kiss. The tremble that shrieked down his spine as she settled him at her entrance was one of antagonistic ecstasy, and when she slowly took him inside, he shuddered uncontrollably.

Overtaken by the moment, Nuada lay perfectly still, watching her face as he allowed her body time to adjust to his presence, and he was devastated when he found tears filling her eyes. Immediately, he took her face in his hands, searching her gaze as he gently touched her mind. Grace was not physically uncomfortable as he feared, but she was walking a mental tightrope, hanging over a chasm of doubt and trying not to fall. The ominous words of Lord Elrond loomed beneath her soul like the thunderclouds outside, dark and threatening to swallow her, viciously daring her to give him another part of her heart . . . yet that very soul was waging war in return, desperate to believe her great-grandfather over his brother, positive the choice was hers.

Burning with fury yet again at what she had been told, Nuada drew Grace close. He did not know what she wanted him to do, but he was desperate to see the tears go away, absolutely determined Grace would never again be hurt in such manner. He did not want her to regret this night, and he did not want to cause Grace any pain . . . not tonight . . . not any night. She had suffered enough already, and Nuada wanted this experience, every experience by his hand to be soft and loving, pleasant and pleasing to her.

"Believe in me, Erulissë," he whispered, continuing to murmur soothing elven sentiments of affection, his words like music as they calmed her, his hands gently stroking her flesh, willing her to trust him again.

It took time, but soon Grace eased in his arms and her eyes came up to meet his, those delicate hands slipping up to cradle his face as she searched it, willing herself to let the mental pain pass. She would choose to believe her great-grandfather's words. She would choose to forget Lord Elrond's words. It was her choice which side she chose to be on, and she chose Nuada.

"I do," she answered firmly, her eyes shining with adoration as she looked down at him.

"Then let me show you how I have missed your touch, Erulissë," he whispered so softly it could barely be heard. "I will bring you more pleasure than you have ever known, I swear it . . . just move with me Erulissë."

Not waiting for a response, Nuada was already moving. Instantly, he captured her mouth with his, drinking in the sweetness the liquor left with her, drowning in the very essence of this woman who possessed his soul as firm hands grasped her hips. His tongue made love to her mouth as he made love to her body, the scent of leather and dark spices filled her nose while the feel of satiny flesh caressed her very soul, his fingers guiding her motions as pale flesh with unfathomable experience worked rhythmically against her, carefully stroking every sensitive spot.

Nuada was so careful, so restrained, every slow, languid thrust bringing pleasure as it erased the pain of their separation, but he was also fighting, battling to restrain the wildness within him that strained to break free. His strange need for this human woman alone was becoming very dangerous indeed, but the powerful mercenary had been consumed by anger for days, his suffering from her absence leaving him raw, his need for vengeance and retaliation against the wedge Elrond drove between them hovering so very close beneath the surface . . . and that wild power was about to be set free . . . by both of them.

Completely immersed in the pleasure that was her touch, Nuada felt as if he were drifting, no more than a raindrop floating on gentle waves of pleasure, but when Grace cried out against him, he found himself suddenly plummeting downward, his own name cried out in release by a woman who cared for him boiling atop a violent tidal wave of pure carnal gratification pounding him to the ground. Like a rock being thrown through a plate glass window, the sound tore through his mind, jagged edges tearing away the tethers that held him, releasing the hidden darkness of his soul as Grace took every fragment of pleasure he offered her and amplified it a thousand fold, milking the seed from his flesh as she writhed above him, taking every shudder of pleasure from the orgasm that swallowed her and forcing it back against him with enough strength to nearly shatter his bones. A human man would have been crushed, a vampire would have been thrilled, but Nuada simply returned the favor.

Instantly the room plunged into darkness, a black so deep it thickened the air surrounding them as the flames tracing beneath Nuada's skin transformed, gentle white flickers morphing into a raging wall of red fire. Unable to control himself any longer, Nuada came off the mattress, clutching her still trembling body to his as he flung them over and pinned her beneath him. Overtaken by a predatory need, Nuada's hands locked into hers, holding her down as his body filled hers yet again. His eyes burned a demonic vermillion as his mouth captured hers, hard kisses bruising her lips as he ravaged her, driving into her with uncontrollable need as he struggled to sate himself and Grace readily accepted, her body greedily taking everything he offered, drawing the heat of that raging fire deep into every crevice of her being – with horrid consequences.

Completely lost to the moment, Nuada cast all restraint aside, allowing the fierce strength that made him what he was to run free, heat pouring from his flesh into hers like an erupting volcano, burning tendrils of lava reaching out to snake through her veins and envelope her soul.   
Having no experience with elementals - particularly one with whom his aura was bound – Nuada had no idea the damage he was doing until it was too late, the blinding heat that poured from him slamming through her fragile mortal body like a freight train when he screamed her name, darkness exploding against a violent burst of lightning as he spewed seed deep within her, scorching the very sheets they rested upon and nearly baking her alive.

It took a moment for the tremors to leave him, time for his eyes to focus again, and when they did, Nuada was crushed by what he found. A sick singed odor teased at the air, while Grace lay limp beneath him, every breath a shattered gasp, her skin glowing with a sick crimson flush where the blood now pooled beneath the surface threatening to break free. A touch of foam clung to her lips as her eyes stared blankly back at him, unseeing pools of black as empty as the death he prayed would not take her.


	25. Dark Fire and Determination

Chapter 25 – Dark Fire and Determination

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Snatching Grace's limp form into his arms, Nuada struggled for control, taking hold of her mind and gently prodding her body to function even as he was tracing them away from the apartment. Facility Four was where they reappeared, the highly secretive pharmaceutical company owned by Lord Niall. The massive complex surrounded by towering fences and swaying palm trees was the keystone of Niall's earthly operations, a sprawling maze of buildings hidden deep in the center of the Pacific Ocean, cloaked by fey magic and nestled on top of an uncharted island. Here the most brilliant supernatural minds worked round the clock, enjoying perfect concealment from the outside world while developing exotic medications for the many fey races and providing a huge source of income for the Fairy Lord and his subordinates.

The talented staff had provided the fairies with many of the things they needed for survival in the human world – including a host of creative ways to counteract their uncontrollable allergy to lead – but should a fairy fall victim to that malady or any other, this was also the place they were taken to be healed. On the farthest east shore, secluded from the other buildings and overhanging the sheer rock face of a ragged cliff, the healing center stood: four stories of sun bleached brick and mortar containing a supernatural medical staff like no other. The head physician was Savan, a creature named for the moon and just as beautiful with his pale white skin and long snowy hair. He was a supernatural healer of renowned power, one of the oldest pureblood fairies in existence, a creature descended from royalty and held in the highest regard by even such great healers as Lord Elrond himself, and Nuada was screaming his name before he even finished materializing.

Kicking open a heavy metal door with a bare foot, the panicked guardian tore down a pristine white corridor, running for the treatment rooms. Nuada had been here more than once before, and he knew how this worked. They would appear from nowhere, as many healers as was necessary, and they very rarely failed.

Ducking into the first open doorway, Nuada was thrilled to find Savan waiting, wrinkled hands reaching for Grace even as he settled her onto the bed. She was not clothed, and Savan dragged in a disgusted breath as he pulled away the navy comforter wrapped round her, exposing a flushed and burning form. The tiniest trickle of blood now eased from her nose and her eyes were closed as he pressed his hands to her chest, feeling for a pulse. It was quite faint, as soft as the breath from a bird and fluttering just as frantically, but it was there. Nuada certainly hadn't done Grace any favors, but she was most definitely alive.

Glowing copper eyes reflecting a kaleidoscope of sunset colors passed him a disdainful look that spoke volumes, then Savan settled to work, ancient and authoritative hands beginning to flow over her. Humans tended to deteriorate markedly when the equilibrium of their fëa was disturbed and it was difficult to set right again, so time was of the essence, and thankfully, those nightmares Grace suffered through gave her an advantage. The nefarious tenacity that filled her grandfather's essence refused to be shifted, literally forming a dam within her that held portions of those invasive flames at bay, and Nuada could thank his lucky stars that Grace had completed about half of that transfer, because if she hadn't, he would've turned her into a vegetable.

Tisking under his breath Savan turned away, a single glance throwing open the doors at the end of the room to reveal a small chamber within. Here the pristine white of the treatment rooms was broken, an alcove of thistle and olive holding a collection of antique carved wooden tables piled high with thick parchment scrolls, delicate jewel toned glass vessels of ointments and oils, heavy stone jars and handpainted urns. There was even a large palantír stone set in the middle of the floor atop a thick golden stand decorated with delicate vines and little gold birds. The sacred vessel which held the essence of Dermot was stored here, along with every manner of sacred incantation and the required sacraments to render them, and Savan quickly darted inside, peeking into the stone, then collecting a variety of powders and liquids and rushing back again.

A sturdy bowl of pure dwarf mined silver set with all manner of jewels was effortlessly conjured to his hands, and Nuada watched in awe as Savan tossed in pinches of shimmering powders and drops of various liquids . . . the tears of a nymph, a few drops from the Dead Sea, the dew from a freshly opened lily, nectar of the hyacinth, crushed bone from a dragon, dust from a volcano . . . the list rambled on, but when the fairy was satisfied, he swirled it all together, leaning back slightly as it began to hiss then threw off a cloud of metallic smelling smoke, then with a flick of his hand reduced it to a single glistening drop of brilliant yellow, appearing in the bowl like a fragment of sunshine itself.

Capturing it on the end of his finger, Savan blinked twice, instantly being joined by the circle of sacred healers. They were a magnificent sight, an ethereal collection of the eldest fairies and angels, dripping in all manner of unworldly finery – some even flaunting iridescent wings - slowly surrounding the broken form on the bed while in the midst of them, Savan stood, draped in yards of the finest amaranthine and heliotrope, throwing rainbows into the air with every motion as he stepped closer to the bed.

"Nuada, you shall need to hold her," Savan murmured quietly, waiting for Nuada to join Grace on the bed.

Quickly, he pulled her in his arms, cradling Grace to his chest very much the same as he did during the transfer of essence, and the moment he was settled, the healing circle closed, every member beginning to chant in unison, a melodic thrum filling the room as the sacred spells of life were called upon, willing the damage away. With no more than a sympathetic glance, Savan grasped Grace's head in his hands, a flick of his wrist and a bat of white lashes depositing that single drop of liquid onto her tongue before he clamped her mouth shut and held it there.

Nothing happened at first, Nuada staring up at Savan uncertainly, but seconds later it took hold and Grace began to convulse, foaming at the mouth as she seized, her eyes seeming to roll back in her head as she stiffened like a board. "You are killing her!" Nuada retched, his voice torn, raw and bleeding with emotion as he clutched Grace against him horrified, but Savan was unmoved, watching carefully as the tiniest blue flickers began to form beneath her skin, that ever so faint tremble of light tracing along her flesh telling him that it was working.

Slowly that single drop began to work its way through her, hitching a ride along a delicate bloodstream to lend much needed strength to the singed elf blood flowing through her veins. It took time, an intolerable passage of minutes that seemed to take the very rainbows from the air surrounding Savan and manifest them within her flesh, turning Grace into the human interpretation of a chameleon as she turned half the colors in a crayon box, from orange, to sapphire, to ruby and back again. Nuada knew if Grace ever found out about this, she'd kill him for sure, but that remarkable display was binding those magical elements with the fey essence of Dermont and repairing the damage, making her fëa whole again.

After what seemed like four eternities, the colors faded, returning to the subtle flicker of her familiar gentle blue, her body relaxing, returning to its previous limp state in Nuada's arms. He began vigorously dabbing at her mouth with a cloth, cleaning her lips and wiping her face, while Savan's unheard command released the others, the omnipotent group fading into the bright light without a sound. The fairy neither said or did anything further, only frowned as he tidied things up, collecting his bowl under his arm then shuffling back to the alcove to put it away. He rummaged a bit through his scrolls, touching things here and there, taking another peek into the palantír, then beginning to walk away, only to stop and return, staring deeply into the glistening black orb for the longest time with an odd expression of surprise on his face. Finally, he seemed satisfied and came out again, slamming the doors shut behind him with a thought.

It seemed as if he intended to leave, and Nuada was staring at him in confusion, wondering just what the hell he intended to do about Grace, because surely, that fairy healer did not intend to just leave her this way! "Savan," he called loudly, "where are you going?"

Savan turned to glare down his nose at Nuada, a scathing lecture dangling on the tip of his tongue like one of the island monkeys outside the windows playing in the trees. "I am returning to my work . . . is there something else you require?"

Easing himself from beneath Grace, Nuada settled her gently on the bed, covering her bare skin carefully with a sheet, before stalking over to the fairy. Dressed in only a pair of black silk pajama bottoms, he stood out in stark contrast to his solid white surroundings, his pale skin still dark in comparison to the one who stood before him, his flaming sunlit hair the day to Savan's pale night. "I am waiting for you to finish healing her," he demanded.

"The balance of her fëa is restored, and her mind is saved. I should hope for no lingering effects, save perhaps a touch of slurred speech or confusion when she wakes," Savan answered coolly, completely unaffected by Nuada's temper.

"Wakes?" Nuada repeated incredulously, casing a disbelieving look over to Grace's burning face. "You cannot possibly intend to allow Erulissë to wake up while still burning in such a manner! You must do something!"

"I do," Savan replied. "I intend to keep her sedated until that dark fire burns out, which I would expect to happen in a few months . . . six or even eight. I am not certain, only time will tell."

"Six months?" Nuada screeched, now sounding like one of those monkeys in the trees outside the window. "You cannot be serious," he spat out. "Erulissë is not going to lay in one of your beds for such a length of time while looking like . . . Rhaich! She looks like a sun dried tomato! You have taken leave of your senses, mellon nín!"

"I have taken leave of nothing, but you are indeed correct," Savan agreed readily, "Grace does indeed resemble an overcooked vegetable, and that is exactly what her delicate human mind would have been reduced to had you not gotten here so quickly . . . and might I guess who is responsible for that?"

"This is not the time to remind me of my mistakes!" Nuada snapped harshly.

"I would beg to differ," Savan said sternly. "It is indeed the time, for you are well aware of the danger you pose to a mere mortal creature, yet you obviously made the choice to join with her anyway. You disappoint me, Nuada . . . you of all creatures know better."

Nuada's face collapsed, clenching his jaw so hard it twitched, while twisting his hands until his knuckles shown white. "It was not my intention! Never would I knowingly harm Erulissë."

Savan frowned slightly, reaching out to Nuada's mind, demanding the guardian allow him entrance. One blink and he knew everything, and the knowledge genuinely surprised the ancient fairy – Nuada cared for the girl, very much in fact. His stern expression softened, compassion seeping into this eyes as his mind returned to the things he'd seen in the palantír stone only moments before. He looked at Nuada sympathetically. "You are venturing into territory with which you are most unfamiliar, my friend, and I fear my words of advice to you will be ill received, but you must heed them just the same. Your feelings obviously cloud your judgment so far as Grace is concerned, so you must not place yourself in this position again."

"Meaning what?" Nuada asked, his eyes large. "That I might never make love to Erulissë again?"

The fairy blinked - several times – wondering if he was a bit too tired and in need of a rest, because obviously he was not hearing things correctly. The emerald stare continued unrelenting, and Savan realized Nuada was completely serious. "I wonder if Niall knows about this . . ." he murmured to himself, raising his shaggy white brows, not believing he would ever hear the words "make love" come from that mercenary's mouth.

Nuada frowned in response, his blond brows knitting, the odd stare down turning into a virtual brow off as one pair reached up and one pair slid down, a tiny roller coaster of little hairs and emotions. Finally, Savan shook his head, throwing long strands of silky white hair spewing about while chuckling softly, the gentle sound resonating off the ceilings to roll round the room – which was enough mockery to cause Nuada to very nearly incinerate. Injuring Grace was most certainly nothing to laugh about, and just what the hell was so funny about him wanting to make love with her . . . huh, fairy man?? He glared at Savan.

"Forgive me, Nuada. I certainly do not intend to make light of these circumstances, for Grace's condition is still quite serious, but never did I anticipate such a revelation! I am most pleased to know you have finally found one you wish to share yourself with, but my warning remains. You simply cannot join with Grace again - not until she is capable of withstanding it, and she will not be capable of withstanding it until the transfer is completed. Once Grace has taken the full essence of Dermot, she will be full fey and therefore strong enough to join with you so many times as she wishes, but for now, it is simply too dangerous. Your magic is too powerful, and your affection for her is obviously strong enough to override your self-control. For now, the solution is simple. You shall simply have to sate yourself in whatsoever manner has worked in the past, and refrain from joining with Grace again."

"That could be weeks . . . even months," Nuada murmured in obvious disappointment and disbelief, his eyes shifting to study the still limp form on the bed. Grace looked as if she were sleeping – while on fire. Her skin burned brilliant red, and while her mind and fëa may have been restored, her physical condition most certainly was not. It simply was inconceivable to leave her in such a state, and Nuada's frown deepened dramatically. "You have my word, I will not join with her again, and my physical pleasures are irrelevant right now . . . Now, saes, please Savan I beg you . . . tell me what can be done for Erulissë? I refuse to allow her to remain on this island and suffer this way!"

Suddenly Savan grew quite serious, his flawless countenance marred by concern. "Nuada, I hold great power, but even I do not possess the ability to remove dark fire from another . . . none of us do. Grace is an elemental, like myself, so she has drawn the flames deep within her, binding it to her very soul. I can offer nothing more than comfort as the fire burns out and eases over time . . . the only other option is to call for a dark one to draw it away."

Nuada's gaze narrowed as he slowly became cognizant of Savan's full meaning. "And you would allow this?" he asked uncertainly.

Savan's expression grew grim, his eyes flashing every color of the summer sky.   
"Once, and only once," the healer answered firmly. "As the overseer of this facility, I do not allow that kind here, but Grace is the great-granddaughter of Lord Niall himself, and you are entitled to certain . . . exceptions, but do not think to abuse them. I will allow it but know that should this ever happen again, there will be no such accommodations made."

The strangest expression crept across Nuada's face as he turned away and began to pace frantically, opening and closing his fists as that blond hair swung wildly, his eyes glued to the form on that bed. He wanted to see Grace healed at any cost, but never did he imagine the price would be so high. Unfortunately, the searing heat that held her was not relenting, even after Nuada went to the bed and hovered above her, pressing his hands to her chest and struggling with every fiber in his being to draw it away, to pull it back into himself. In his heart, he knew it would not work, but he tried . . . oh how he tried . . . but finally, he relented, murmuring a name he had not uttered in centuries.

"Uphir."

The sacred name of the dark healer Amarande Nuada summoned from the Shadow Realm made the very air around him tremble with fear, the shadows creeping from the corners and hovering almost tangibly in the air. Savan had never actually seen Nuada's mother, but for this single moment he would allow her presence in this sacred place, and he would not interfere.

Jars shook on the shelves when the shadows began to harden, the air trembling until the sheets on the bed rippled and the curtains fluttered at the windows. The apparition that soon appeared was not what Savan expected, a diminutive creature of merely five feet statue, her pale bluish skin deceptive that it hinted of death, yet her delicate movements showed she was very much alive. Her ruby red lips shimmered in the light, the strange language she uttered known only to Nuada, her words incoherent to the delicate ears of Savan as she asked her only son what it was he requested of her. Uphir had not seen Nuada in many centuries. He never called on her, not even when he was being tortured thousands of years ago by the Nameless Ones, yet here he sat, gently cradling the burning form of a little human woman silently begging her healing touch for one he hurt – and one he wished to see made well again.

Strange eyes, sterling silver stained with yellow studied him, the dark rings circling them making them glow oddly under the bright lights. The gaze was piercing, searching the beautiful face of her lost child, gladly willing to meet his request if it would help her regain his lost affections. Unfortunately, this was not the better to reminisce over things past. The human was literally simmering as she lay there, so Uphir relented. She flowed across the room, motion so smooth it was nearly undetectable to the eye, yet suddenly she was in another place, by the bed, beside Grace.

Uphir passed a single glance toward Savan, but instantly dismissed the fairy's presence. She was a powerful healer in her own right, although not to the creatures of this world, and she held no awe for him or his elegant clothing, nor did she care to know him. Instead, she focused on the human, hesitating, but only for a moment. Nuada would not have called to her if he did not believe she could intercept the road of torment Grace traveled down, so she set about the purpose of her visit with intent.

Carefully a small bluish hand was placed against a burning cheek, strangely attractive golden claws gentle in their touch as they stroked the heated skin, calling to the flames within. Uphir was a ruler of the dark fire. She could make it respond, and if this human woman claimed a place in her son's heart, she would force it to her will and demand the heat submit.

Silver eyes darkened to burnished pewter as her fingers made small circles, but the force of resistance surprised her, and Uphir recognized the depth of the invasion. Grace had indeed drawn the fire deep into her soul, so desperate to feel the warmth of Nuada's presence returned to her, she literally ripped it out of him, using the bond of their auras to pluck the flames from his flesh like summer corn. The human was indeed very fortunate to have survived.

Undeterred, Uphir grasped Nuada's hand, clutching it in her own and placing them both over Grace's heart. Closing her eyes, she then called to the shadows, a palpable darkness descending, incapable of drowning out the fierce fairy light that emanated throughout this place, but strong enough to throw deep shadows around the room. The fragile appearance of the delicate creature was deceiving as to the power she contained, and as the pupils of her eyes narrowed, morphing from round orbs to reptilian slits, fire began to fly from her fingertips. This time, the strokes of her fingers drew deep crimson flickers, wild patterns of roaring red flames seeping from Grace's very pores to trace up Nuada's arm and disappear as Uphir forced the dark fire to release her soul and return to its maker. The determined healer did not stop until the wild peaks licking over Grace were completely gone, all traces of vermillion removed from the strange little human that was part fey and flowed with the blood of an elf.

When she drew her hands away, Grace was cool, the normal tone of her bronze flesh showing healthy, marred by nothing more than what appeared to be a bad sunburn beneath which ran the almost imperceptible scintillation of gentle blue flames. Those reassuring flickers told Uphir her work was done, and the strange creature that was Nuada's mother shifted her attention away from the human she had been called upon to save, turning to face her son, studying the child she knew despised her. Nuada had been given a choice so very long ago, and he did not choose her, but while Uphir had never accepted it, she understood.

No words were spoken between them, none necessary as he nodded his head to her in gratitude, his glowing eyes silently thanking the woman who birthed him for the kindness she had extended to him. There was an odd gentleness about the unusual creature as she reached to softly caress his cheek, a deep crimson flush covering him instantly at her touch. They would always be connected, just as any child was to their parent, and in some strange way, he would always love her. Uphir looked at him kindly, passing a final curious glance over Grace, then she was gone, all darkness leaving the room as she returned to her world.

The glaring fairy light quickly refilled the room and Savan returned to the bed, gently replacing his hands over the human heart that now beat strong and even, relieved to find Grace's temperature completely normal again. Like Nuada, he was thrilled to see her well again, but the ancient fairy had all ideas Niall Brigant was going to absolutely snap if he found Uphir had been allowed to Facility Four, because those two did NOT get along! He snorted sourly, but pushed the thought away. "You mother has done very well, Nuada . . . repairing what I could not," he shared in an angelic voice, and Nuada breathed normally for the first time since this began, his huge sigh of relief somehow reaching Grace's ear. Hearing it, Grace moaned so low it was almost imperceptible, the first sign of life they'd seen since she arrived, and Savan patted Nuada on the arm kindly. "Comfort her, Nuada . . . if anything changes call for me, but I expect you may take her home shortly," Savan said, hiding his huge smile until his back was turned away.

Nuada readily complied, sliding onto that simple white bed and dragging Grace against him. Closing his eyes, he clung to her, thanking the Valar for allowing him the chance to make this right, for not taking her from him, and for giving him the chance to hold her again. The touch of his hands drew the tiniest flickers of blue flame from her skin, and Nuada knew she could feel his presence, and indeed Grace did - pulling strength from him, the white flames of his aura running from his fingers to mingle with hers, her very soul taking what it needed from the one it was promised to. It soothed him to know he was finally helping in some way to help repair what he had done, and he prayed Savan's final words of caution to him were for naught when the powerful fairy reappeared some time later, releasing them, but also warning Nuada that Grace might not seem entirely herself when she first woke.

Unfortunately, Nuada had a bigger problem to worry about at that moment than wobbly steps or slurred words, because no sooner had Savan stepped out of the room than Niall Brigant stalked in. "Get out now!" the fairy commanded harshly, just daring Nuada not to pry his snuggling ass out of that bed and comply.

One venomous glare was enough to tell Niall that guardian had no intentions of leaving Grace, and one poisonous stare in return told Nuada his butt better start walking, so it was fortunate that Savan came bursting back in to mediate. Shooing Nuada from the bed, he assured Niall that Grace was indeed fine, already too aware of how angry that fairy lord was. Savan was Niall's closest confidant, but that hadn't stopped the Fairy Lord from ripping his perfect pale rear a new one a few minutes earlier, so he could only imagine what his words to Nuada would be like, so he wanted their conversation to take place outside.

Assuming a suitable position of hovering over Grace that seemed to only partially suit the pair, he pointed a firm finger toward the door, watching with relief as they headed outside. Both men remained silent as they strode down wide, gleaming white corridors, finally emerging from the building just as the sun was rising. As always, it was going to be a beautiful day, hot and clear, sunlight glinting over gently rolling waves of deep blue flinging themselves against a rocky shore then exploding into frothy fireworks. The scenery was breathtaking, but that gentle salt air proved to be a sarcastic slap in Nuada's face, reminding him how much Grace loved it – and that because of his weakness she came damn close to never smelling it again.

"Savan had to make allowances that are unheard of this night . . . allowing you to call your mother to this place for help if I understand correctly!" Lord Niall rasped, his chilling voice cutting through the early morning stillness to echo back at them from the towering brick walls they stood against. "Uphir touched my great-grandchild!" The Fairy Lord was furious, but even his anger wasn't enough to keep him from whispering that name, torn somewhere between apprehension and awe by the memories it evoked.

Nuada turned a chilling glare to Niall. "Uphir saved your great-grandchild," he corrected harshly. "Rescued her from months of torturous burning . . . you should be more grateful, particularly considering who you are talking to!" Those glistening eyes were still green, but vermillion flames now danced in their depths, reminding Niall just who – and what – he was talking to. Nuada knew he had done the unthinkable and that he would no doubt be held accountable, but a heaping dose of mother bashing wasn't on the menu of shit he intended to eat this day.

"I am waiting for your explanation as to why that creature had to save Grace, and it had better be a very good one," Lord Niall demanded, those sea green eyes locked onto Nuada, threatening him without saying one word.

Nuada stared at Niall for a moment longer, now backing down one inch, but then he turned away, staring into the distance to watch a group of little monkeys cheerfully playing in the vines hanging from a pod of palm trees. It was a sight that Grace would have been delighted with, and it threatened to tear him apart. "Erulissë is alive and well," he finally answered, his voice sounding shattered and broken. "That is what is important here . . . not who or what is responsible for helping her."

Porcelain hands trembling with emotion soon found their way to Nuada's face as he brushed away tendrils of hair the breeze was tucking into his mouth, remaining to rub at temples aching from stress, desperate to ease the ache of a painful soul . . . and Niall's clenched jaw eased somewhat as he watched. That Fairy Lord wanted to strangle Nuada with his bare hands, but he was a noble and trusted guardian – one who had made a terrible mistake - but one who had also proven himself to be vigilant and determined in his care of Grace far beyond what one could expect . . . even going so far tonight as to do something he refused to do even to save himself . . . to call upon his mother for help. Taking that into consideration, the fairy struggled to remain calm, his words coming out in sharp, staccato notes when he spoke again. "The life of my great-grandchild is sacred to me, no matter if she is bound to you," he said tersely, "so while her condition may currently be restored, I still require an explanation of what you did tonight . . . and I am waiting."

The exhausted guardian watched a monkey throw another one out of the tree, the poor little furball landing in the sand with a firm plop and a spray of silky sand into the air. It reminded him of how he felt when Grace slammed her pleasure into him – like he'd been thrown off a building – and it was wonderful. Turning to Niall, his expression was firm as stone. "I have done nothing more this night than you yourself have in the past, Adar," Nuada replied sarcastically, his voice hard as newly smelted steel. "I chose to share myself with another and lost control - although unlike you, never will I scamper into the shadows and hide myself out of her reach. I am willing to accept the consequences of my actions, and on my very life, believe that I shall. . . . I will take her from this place, I will be there when Erulissë wakes, and I will continue to watch over her for the rest of her days."

Niall's mouth clamped into a thin line, his heart instantly racing as Nuada's words washed over him, pounding against his ribcage very much like the waves far below. The fairy knew he had no room to lecture the man standing beside him – he had made mistakes far worse in the past. "Which is why I bound you to her, Nuada," the Fairy Lord replied almost wistfully. "Because she calls to something deep within you that no other has been able to reach . . . something good and pure. You will always give your very best to Grace, just as you did last night . . . you did well, Nuada . . . you did well."

Niall seemed to slip into some deep state of reminiscence, and Nuada watched him walk away, wondering what memories he was replaying in his mind. It was a question he would most likely never know the answer to, so Nuada pushed it away, returning to the treatment room and collecting Grace to take her home. He returned them to the luxury Shreveport apartment, his arms firmly holding this strange human woman who had captured his heart, refusing to let her go. His eyes never left her face as he washed and dressed her, and while Grace slept, he cradled her soft body against him. Just looking at Grace tore him apart, and Nuada needed to feel the warmth of her skin to prove she was alive, had to feel that heartbeat under her flesh and see those gentle blue flickers to know the damage was repaired.

It was in the middle of the night on Saturday when Grace woke the first time, hazy grey eyes beneath heavy lids cracking open to a piercing green stare. Nuada was wondering how she would act, and what he got was enough to nearly give him a heart attack. Grace stared at him oddly, honestly seeming not to know who or what he was . . . or why he was staring at her so. At first, she lay there simply looking at him, then she tried to sit up, toppling right over in a little heap. She was very much like that little monkey in the sand, only this was anything but funny.

Nuada immediately righted her, ever so gently holding her down so she would not do it again while he tried speaking to her. "Erulissë . . . it is Nuada, A'maelamin . . . how are you feeling?"

"Nuflala . . ." she murmured, reaching out to touch his face – or more accurately to smack him in it. Obviously her depth perception was gone because what Grace intended to be a curious touch ended up being a hand shoved into Nuada's nose hard enough to tilt his head back . . . which Grace thought was hysterical. Acting very much like someone who was either intensely drunk or high, she began giggling uncontrollably while taking her finger and not so gently poking Nuada in the nose again.

Horrified, Nuada sat there, allowing the not so gentle exploration all the while praying to the Valar she would snap out of this in a moment – which she did not. Instead, murmuring a steady stream of gibberish, Grace continued to poke and prod him, seeming fascinated by his pointed ears and staring into those huge green eyes like she was enthralled. After a good fifteen minutes, Nuada gave up, stroking her face while she blinked up at him and he began murmuring a sleep spell. "Nuflala . . . pretty words," she whispered, her eyes closing again.

It left Nuada alone and devastated, sitting in the darkness of that bedroom wondering what in holy hell to do now – because if Niall Brigant saw Grace in this condition, there was little doubt that fairy lord would have his ass chained in a dungeon lopping his fingers off one at a time before the hour was out. Struggling to remain calm, Nuada resumed his position of cradling Grace to his chest, only this time, it was a much more proactive one. The fey healers had managed to restore the balance of her fëa, Uphir had taken away the burning heat of the dark fire, and now he would complete the healing and restore her mind.

Five millennia of mercenary studies had afforded Nuada many, many things – including the amplified gift of being one of the most powerful mind manipulators to draw breath – and manipulate a mind was exactly what he did. Nuada did not gently ease into Grace's mind, he dove in face first. The guardian had always maintained a respectful distance from Grace's personal thoughts and feelings since coming to know her, but all polite restraint was discarded in an instant as Nuada very systematically ran through every single thing in her entire memory system, smoothing, repairing . . . arranging. It took hours and hours, draining his own mind in the process, but when he was finished, her mind was completely perfect again. Satisfied, but exhausted, he ever so gently wiped away the tiny trickle of blood that eased from her nose due to his violent mental plunderings, then snuggled Grace a bit tighter, clinging to her as the sun rose and drifting off to sleep himself.

The astonishing headache and strange reddish appearance of her skin were the only signs remaining of what happened when Grace woke the second time, and once again she found a startling pair of emerald green eyes staring at her when she did . . . only this time, they were quite familiar. "Good morning, Nuada," she murmured, easing up to drift a kiss against his cheek. It was harmless, but Nuada stiffened like a board, completely incapable of accepting any semblance of affection from Grace, and leaving her quite confused in the process.

There are few things worse than the dreaded "Morning After" when one has been drinking and does not remember what went on between yourself and a man . . . and Grace was facing one head on. Only, unbeknownst to her, her memory loss was not due to alcohol, nor was it the morning after – it was two mornings after - she just didn't know it yet. Matter of fact, she didn't know anything, particularly what the hell was wrong with Nuada because that man just acted plain downright weird. She snuggled, he stiffened, she kissed, he ever so politely turned his head. It was worst case scenario for any female to wake up to – laying in bed with a man who didn't seem entirely pleased that you were there – and leaving a mind to scurry frantically over a plethora of horrid reasons why . . . Did she say something stupid and crude? Did she suck in bed? Did her breath smell? Did she fart in her sleep?

It didn't take too many mental visits to that little shop of horrors for her to bolt from the room, and Nuada couldn't honestly say he was sorry to see her go. As much as he wanted to see Grace awake and restored, actually facing her while knowing that he'd damn near killed her was something else entirely – and something he had no idea how to properly handle . . . so he took the chicken's way out and hid in that bedroom . . . same as she did, flying to the other end of that house and holing herself up in that cream sanctuary for a far too long shower and much procrastination while getting dressed.

Unfortunately, the longer Grace stayed in that room, the more she came to realize that something wasn't quite right . . . drinking and blacking out was not unheard of, but her mind had a hole in it the size of the Grand Canyon and while she was determined not to entertain the idea that Nuada would ever do such a thing, the thought was certainly hovering when she opened that door a few hours later and finally came out.

She was a touch surprised to find Nuada sitting at the kitchen island, fresh from the shower himself, and looking like a wet setting hen that just came in from the rain. His eyes were shadows, and his voice strained, but he spoke and she reciprocated, returning to her actions of what she thought was the night before – digging in the fridge for a drink and something to eat, then plopping down across that granite slab from him to pop the top and stare. Nuada was watching her like a mother grizzly with an attitude, and it didn't take much to figure out that something was most assuredly wrong with that good looking man. Her guardian did not seem nearly so excited about her return as he'd been at Fangtasia, and Grace began to wonder if he wished she'd just stayed gone.

A heavy and uncomfortable silence stretched between them, and finally Grace decided perhaps it was better to take Sookie up on that invitation to go shopping on Saturday afternoon if her and Nuada weren't too wrapped up with one another – and they most certainly weren't – so she casually got up and retrieved her phone, sliding back onto the bar stool as she flipped it on. There were messages waiting for her – which was a tad odd – but that wasn't the eye catching thing on that little LED screen – the date and time were – because it wasn't Saturday morning – it was Sunday afternoon.

In that very moment, Grace knew there was a very good reason she couldn't remember what happened between her and Nuada – it was because her mind had been tampered with. Nuada had washed the memories of that Pacific Island treatment center away as smooth as a beach stone pounded by a hundred years of ocean waves, but the hole where they'd been loomed like an endless abyss in Grace's thoughts, and sitting on that bar stool she knew it – and she was looking at the asshole responsible.

"You sorry heartless bastard," she seethed, just in time for Niall Brigant to hear. Her great-grandfather had just supernaturally slipped himself into that den to sneak a peak at how her and Nuada were doing, and the sound of Grace screaming was not exactly what he was expecting to hear . . . although it did tell him one thing. The girl was certainly in possession of her faculties, because no one could wring out curses the way she started hurling them at Nuada who wasn't.

It was one of the best rants Lord Niall had heard in years – and he'd heard plenty - but it was a bit more than Nuada's debilitated mind could tolerate. As if the creature hadn't been through enough over the past forty-eight hours, now he had Grace well-rested and utterly livid, screaming in his face, and when she threatened to leave again, he volunteered to help her pack. Suddenly as enraged as she was, he came off that stool in a furor, spitting vile obscenities right back at her in a virtual rainbow of languages. She called him a manipulative liar who was so low he could waltz under the belly of a pregnant flea and still have room to spare, and he retaliated with an array of rancid demonic curses the likes of which he'd rarely uttered before.

They fought fiercely for the next hour, during which Nuada flatly refused to tell Grace anything relating to the past two days. His politeness quota was officially gone, while she was solidly in bitch territory, but thankfully, they didn't start throwing things at one another again – well, all except for that orange. The poor unfortunate piece of fruit was still on the floor where she'd dropped it Friday night, and she just couldn't resist. Plucking it from the floor with her mind, she hurled it straight at his face, but Nuada was having none of that shit – not this day. Snatching it from the air so fast she didn't even see his hand, it exploded with a sick pop when Nuada slammed it to the counter, his poisonous eyes telling Grace she'd be next if she did it again.

Simultaneously escalating and deteriorating, a literal war was once again waged in that kitchen, all semblance of conversation or communication disappearing as they hurled insults at one another until Grace did indeed repack her things and storm out – prompting Niall to silently remove himself from the premises - and leaving Nuada both devastated and thrilled to see her go. The guardian did not know how he would repair his relationship with Grace, but telling her the truth was certainly not an option . . . and he had enough internal strife to contemplate as it were. Savan's words of warning were cruel ones indeed, the fact that he could not share himself with Grace again physically enough to bring Nuada to his very knees. For the first time in his existence he had found a woman with whom he wished to fully share himself, and he had chosen the one female with whom he could not.

Snarling guttural curses and shaking his head in fury, he stalked from the room, heading back to the bedroom to get some sleep. Nuada would not go to Serena tonight to ease his pain, but he would return soon enough – and he would continue to return, visiting the whore again and again – using her as a substitute for Grace until he could find some way to once again make love to the one he truly wanted . . . and the one he was determined to have.


	26. Dinner with Friends

Chapter 26 – Dinner with Friends

Fangtasia - Tuesday Night, 2:30am. I'm closing the bar early just to meet with you. Please come . . . Eric Northman.

As requested via one extraordinarily polite cell phone message, Grace fulfilled her obligation to friend and family when she reluctantly slipped to sit in Eric Northman's office that Tuesday morning right after Fangtasia closed. She was less excited about being there than if she'd received an engraved invitation to watch paint dry, and Eric knew from the expression on her face, he'd have been better off facing down one of those elven wargs than trying to talk to that girl tonight, but she wasn't leaving his office without fessing up what was happening, of that Laurel Grace could rest assured.

The vampire didn't know what went wrong, but the fact that something horrid transpired between Nuada and Grace after they left Fangtasia on Friday night was glaringly obvious, because even now some four days later, he had not heard a solitary word from his friend – but he'd certainly heard more than enough from Sookie. His beautiful, blonde girlfriend must have been taking notes that night Grace laid into his ass over the phone, because he'd been receiving regular doses of the same ever since Grace called her after storming out of that luxury apartment on Sunday night. Eric knew Grace was back holed up in that hotel across town, he knew she refused to go stay with Sookie - or even meet with her cousin in person for that matter. Sookie had even gone so far as to go to that hotel room and pound the door, but Grace didn't answer, even though her truck was in the lot and her cousin was positive she was inside. It was the strangest thing imaginable, and Eric intended to find out just what the hell was going on.

"Thank you for coming, Grace," Eric said, silently passing a look to Pam to go fetch the girl a drink – and lord knows, Grace looked like she needed one. From the horrible black circles under her eyes to the strange almost sun burnt appearance of her skin, Grace looked like shit, and Eric wondered if Nuada looked the same. "Will you please tell me what's going on?" he prompted gently, his expression one of kind sincerity.

The polite inquiry earned him nothing more than a blood chilling glare, not that he was surprised. After their last confiding little chat session, he'd run back and repeated every word to Nuada, and Eric knew Grace didn't trust him enough to confide in him any longer. "Grace, I swear I will never repeat another word you tell me to Nuada so long as I live, and Logan here is my witness, you have my word."

He put a cold, pale hand over his non-beating heart like that was going to make any difference, and Grace just stared at him like she was really, really glad he was dead. "I don't give a shit what you go back and tell your possum prick sidekick, Eric, I truly don't," she spat back, "because between the two of you, you've managed to turn my life into a living hell, and I'm so sick of your meddling bullshit, I could literally throw up."

Suddenly leaning back in her chair, Grace crossed her arms in front of her, the tiny blue flickers beginning to trace under her skin telling Eric something very unpleasant just popped into her devious little mind. "You helped him didn't you?" she ground out.

Eric's face fell at her odd accusation. "I haven't helped Nuada do anything," he answered cautiously, "and just what do you think I helped him do?"

Looking at her cousin's arrogant ass of a vampire boyfriend like she wanted to come over that desk and slap him stiff, Grace threw a glance over her shoulder toward Logan that told him she really didn't feel this was any of his business, then hissed out an answer. "After we left here Friday night, we went back to the apartment, and we got in bed . . . but from one particular point forward, I know nothing. There's a hole this big," she told Eric, holding her arms out in a giant circle, "in my brain that's full of absolutely squat. I didn't even wake up until Sunday afternoon, and when I asked Nuada what happened, he clamped his mouth shut tighter than a virgin's ass! He flatly refuses to tell me what happened, and I feel like I got run over by a damn dumptruck! Hell, he barely even tried to stop me when I left – it seemed like the bastard was happy to see me leave!"

Like Eric, Logan was listening intently, both vampires riveted by what Grace was saying. They were both extremely proficient at glamoring a human, but if someone erased Grace's memory to that extent, they were one powerful somebody to be sure. His eyes met Eric's as they both considered her words . . . neither one of them did it.

"Grace, I haven't touched you, and I haven't seen Nuada since he left with you Friday night," Eric told her firmly, raking his eyes over her even closer. He wondered if this might be the result of that transfer of essence Nuada told him about – maybe the fairies tried something and it went wrong. "Now whatever's happened to you, I swear I was not involved . . . and while I can't begin to explain what's gone on, I do know Nuada was thrilled to see you back. I find it very hard to believe he would've wanted you to leave again."

Grace heard his denial and studied Eric carefully, seeing the slight twitch where his jaw was now clenched. It told her that Eric didn't participate in whatever happened to her, but he wasn't off the hook quite yet. She leaned across the desk, her expression leaving no doubt as to the sincerity of her statement. "Well, you mark my words dead man. I've got a whole list of shit I intend to do to you if you lied to me the other night and you ever abandon my cousin, but it pales in comparison to what I'm gonna do to that closed mouth friend of yours once I find out what he did to me."

Well that certainly brought a frown. Eric Northman needed Grace happy and helping him – not pissed off and glowing soft red sitting in his office – and he would've gladly done anything to make this go away. "Grace, I'll talk to Nuada . . . I'll find out what went on. I haven't seen him since Friday myself, but I swear I'll track him down no matter what it takes, but I really, really need your help to get this engagement party ironed out, so will you please just settle down? Why don't you go stay with Sook for a few days, let this blow over, let me see what's going on . . . would you do that for me?"

"Why don't you bite my ass?" Grace snapped back sarcastically, wondering just how petrified those thousand year old dead brain cells of his were. "Thanks to you and your little party plans, I can't go stay with Sookie, or have you forgotten? My damn cousin reads minds, and if I set foot near her, she's gonna know all about this party, which is why I'm back in that damn hotel, and hiding out on a freaking freezing cold balcony when she comes to see me! You keep forgetting that while your brain is blank to her, mine isn't, and you're damn lucky I had a blocking spell on me the other night on that dance floor when you started running your mouth, or she'd already know!"

Eric looked startled for a moment, having never considered that. He just assumed that Nuada would take care of it the same as he did with the house. "Well do you still have the spell on you? Did Nuada . . ."

"It's gone now, and outside of erasing half of it, I don't have a clue what else Nuada did or didn't do to my mind," Grace interrupted harshly. "We didn't talk about it, and I've got no way to test that theory . . . so I've been trying to do your sorry ass a favor and stay away from Sook to keep this secret, but hell, if you're willing to chance it, I'll gladly leave here and march my ass right over to Hummingbird Lane and make happy with my cousin. It'd be a welcome relief to being stuck in a damn hotel suite alone for the holidays!"

That really did put a frown on Eric's face – Logan's too. It was glaringly obvious, if Grace had ever needed the support of her cousin, this was the time, but while they could erase memories, neither of them held the power to manipulate and hide them from Sookie. They couldn't help. "Well, let's assume Nuada didn't for a minute," Eric said, his mind scrambling. "What about Niall? Can you call him and ask him to do it? I know you want to see Sookie, and there's no way you're gonna avoid her until this party rolls around, I'm sure of it."

Grace exploded. "You want me to call up Niall Brigant, and say what? Oh great-grandfather, would you mind stopping by? I need a few things," she taunted sarcastically. "Nuada decided to fuck me again the other night, but then he erased my memory, so would ya mind coming over and putting it back for me? Just curious, but I'd like to know what he shoved up my ass during those two days that I don't remember . . . oh, and before you go, would you mind making it so that Sookie can't read my mind and find out that Eric's planning on asking her to marry him? Because I just KNOW that's gonna fucking excite him!"

Logan's eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he came off the wall. "You don't really think Nuada . . ."

Eric spat out "no" while Grace flipped around to glare at the seemingly dense vampire. "I was being sarcastic," she told him in a vicious tone.

Logan wisely went back to leaning, while Eric went to tapping his fingers – something he very, very rarely did. "Is there anybody else, Grace? I hate to ask, but I really, really need your help . . . this is one of the most important things I've ever done."

Grace ground her teeth, then reluctantly nodded. She could call Cairbre, but she sure as shit didn't want to, positive the elf would be pushing his luck if he helped her again. "He's probably gonna say no," she told Eric honestly. "And the only reason I'll even agree to think about it is because of Sookie . . . if not for her, I wouldn't even be sitting here, but since I am, why don't you stop prying into my life and start telling me why I'm here - so I can leave."

Deciding it best not to push the obviously strained human any farther, Eric launched into what seemed to be a never ending speech about the surprise Christmas engagement party he was planning, detailing everything he hoped Grace might help him with – including working with Logan to pick out decorations and taking Sookie shopping for a special outfit. It was quite a list - one that would be impossible to complete if her thoughts were not contained – and one that wouldn't have even considered doing for any other creature save Sookie Stackhouse.

Grace's head felt like it would explode by the time Eric finally shut up, but she gladly reciprocated his mind numbing dose of "blah, blah" with one of her own, diving right into a heavily embellished profession of the finer points of southern courtship. Fuck it – if she was miserable, somebody else should be too! "You do realize you can't marry Sookie without asking for her hand in marriage from Niall, don't you?" Grace told him with a great deal of satisfaction, knowing it would piss him off. "It's southern tradition, and you know how proper Sookie is about stuff like that . . . it'll mean the world to her when she finds out you did."

Eric nearly choked on the warm bottle of TrueBlood he was casually sucking on when Grace said that, actually turning one shade paler when she told him what was required, and after those soft blue eyes got no relief from Logan, he'd settled for glaring at Grace while she continued talking, obviously gloating over his discomfort. But to Eric's credit, the old vampire was not to be outdone, and he turned the tables right back on his devious little human friend. "Well then you're coming too," he declared firmly. "Your great-grandfather, your cousin, your idea. I can hardly wait."

"You are so pushing your luck tonight, dead man," Grace told him flatly.

"Yeah, but you'll do it because you love Sookie and you secretly love me too," he told her with a wink, coming out of his chair. "But we're gonna have to do it fast, because I'm running out of time. The party's on the twenty-third, and that is only six days away . . . so I'll make some calls and let you know, but for now, I want you to get your ass outta here and go get some rest. You look like shit."

"Well the next time your friend decides to mind rape me, I'll be sure to make myself all pretty again before I drop by," Grace snapped right back, snatching her drink from the corner of the desk and heading out the back door to her truck without so much as a backward glance.

She was just slamming the truck door closed when it was stopped by a pale hand. "Grace, are you really alright?" Logan asked sincerely. "I know you and Eric like to joke around, but you really don't look well."

 _"No, and you aren't gonna look well either, if you don't move your damn hand,"_ Grace thought to herself. Logan being there had been a most unwelcome surprise when she arrived tonight, but she did learn one interesting thing. The gorgeous blond vampire just so happened to be the owner of that second black Cadillac Escalade that found its way to the Fangtasia parking lot nearly every night, and now Grace knew why he was so impressed with hers. Seemed they had more in common than she realized, but this was neither the time nor the place to start comparing vehicles.

"I'll be fine," she told him coolly, starting the engine and waiting for him to move so she could back out.

Logan didn't budge.

"Grace, listen to me," he told her firmly, surprising her by stepping closer to peer into her face with an intensity she'd rarely seen. "I don't know what happened to you this past weekend, but if you ever need anything you've got my number and I want you to use it. I have connections, and I just might be able to help."

"It's nothing I can't handle," she told him firmly, wondering if she really could trust the gorgeous vampire. "You just get that stuff together and I'll see you Friday night."

Two flat grey eyes told Logan she had no intentions of talking to him about anything further right then, so he silently stepped away, shutting the gleaming truck door so Grace could leave. They were meeting again Friday night so he could show her and Eric the decorations his company was providing for the party. Perhaps she would talk to him then.

*********************************************

After leaving Fangtasia, Grace drove out to the old abandoned warehouse, parking her truck in the cold emptiness of a December night to get out and stand in the very same spot where Nuada had come to save her. That night had been one of the most unpleasant she could recall, but it had also been one of the most wonderful, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not fathom what had changed so dramatically from the first fascinating time she and Nuada slept together till the second. The memories were gone – erased – nothing left but a hole in her mind as black as that bleak, starless sky hanging heavy above her, a hole that was threatening to devour her. Grace didn't admit it to Eric, but like the vampire said, she knew Nuada had been thrilled to see her return . . . and now she desperately wanted to know what happened to make that change.

Her heart felt as frozen as her flesh by the time Grace gave up the cold isolation and headed back to the hotel suite across town. She'd been subconsciously praying Nuada would come to her again, return to that warehouse and claim her, but he did not appear and she spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, wild images of that gorgeous blond creature laid out on a Copacabana beach somewhere surrounded by bronze fleshed beauties, drinking colorful cocktails and forgetting all about her whirling round her mind. It made her miserable, but when the sun came up, Grace was forced to get up and get dressed. Alcide Harveaux was in a state of sheer panic over Eric's house, and she'd finally relented to his endless calls. Her meeting with the powerful werewolf was at noon, and it ended up lasting for hours. He'd lingered, he'd procrastinated, but thankfully he never gave in and asked her what happened to make her recluse herself from the project. That good looking masculine face had simply creased into a gentle smile when she left, and he'd assured her how much he hoped they would be working together again.

Relieved it was over, Grace stopped for a solitary meal, then headed back across town. She was positive Nuada knew where she was staying and she knew for a fact that blocking spell was gone. Nuada could come to her if he wanted, yet her guardian had made no effort to contact her, so Grace made up her mind that she would find a way to occupy herself once and for all. A lengthy shower was soon accompanied by perfect makeup, many trips to the room's wet bar, and a stunning new outfit as Grace dressed for a night on the town, a slight smile creasing her face when she saw that darkness had fallen.

It was exactly what she'd been waiting for, and she'd just grabbed her cell phone along with a small piece of paper with a telephone number she hadn't got around to using yet, when her phone started ringing. Checking the caller id, Grace growled out a curse and ignored it – and ignored it – and ignored it - until the fourth call, because that's when she impatiently realized Eric Northman intended to call as many times as was necessary for her to give in and answer it. Flipping it open, her voice was anything but welcoming as she answered. Grimacing like she was in pain, Grace listened to Eric's pleading voice. The vampire had done exactly what she asked of him, and he was at that very instant at Nuada's apartment and Lord Niall was with him . . . she needed to come join him as soon as possible.

They were the last words Grace wanted to hear, and she simmered the entire way over, positive if Eric lied and this was another sick attempt for that vampire to insert himself into her and Nuada's relationship, she would stake him before Sookie ever got the chance to marry him. Fortunately it was not, but when that Escalade grumbled to a stop in front of the obnoxious luxury apartment, she was immediately struck by the three cars waiting there. Suddenly simmering anger turned into outright rage, and she was seriously considering not going in, but Grace knew she'd promised Eric she'd be there for him, so in honor of Sookie Stackhouse she relented.

Sliding out of the truck, Grace took a minute to reflect on how stupid it was for Lord Niall to be using a limousine service when he could just pop himself from place to place, then she stopped to check out the poontang payment – raking a venomous glare over what was obviously Nuada's new black Jaguar XKR Coupe with dealer tags sitting beside Eric's red corvette. It had to cost at least a hundred thousand dollars if it cost a penny, and Grace sarcastically wondered if Nuada thought screwing her was worth it because she had no doubt it belonged to him.

Seriously contemplating how it might look if she wrapped it around the nearest oak tree, Grace nearly pissed herself when Sookie suddenly popped up in front of her. "I know you're about to freak, but let me tell you, I had nothing to do with this! I swear I didn't Grace," she babbled excitedly, earning a pale faced wide-eyed stare from her cousin. Grace was very happy to see Sookie, but she was praying like hell her cousin couldn't read her mind as she revisited the conversation she and Eric shared during the wee hours of the morning. Obviously, either Nuada had given Eric a heads up that he'd already taken care of that little problem, or the damn vampire had lost his dead mind – one of the two.

Thankfully, Sookie couldn't read Grace's mind, but she was still bursting with questions, and stunned to see the way she was dressed. "Holy crap, you look great!" she told her seriously, "where were you planning on being tonight? Eric said you didn't know about this!"

And indeed Grace did not know about this, so suddenly feeling overcome with dread, she balked at the idea of going upstairs. "I cannot go in there looking like this!" Grace whispered violently, while Sookie grabbed her by the arm, physically dragging her toward the elevator.

"Yes you can, and you are. You look gorgeous! Come on, at least let Eric see how you look."

It was very dark in the parking lot, but as Sookie stormed her closer to the elevator and the bright lights of the building, Grace could see that Sookie was also dressed to perfection, and she really did begin to wonder just what the hell Eric Northman was up to this night. Her cousin looked just one step short of a supermodel, the gorgeous soft blue pants set of silky material setting off her blond hair and perfect curves to perfection, and Grace knew Eric had picked it out for her.

"Come on sweetie," Sookie encouraged, opening the door. "Our great-grandfather came to see us tonight!"

"I was planning to be somewhere else tonight," Grace protested, her voice plenty loud enough for everyone to hear her, as Sookie snatched her through that huge carved wood front door – and Grace was telling the absolute truth. That cell phone had been in her hand for a reason when Eric called – she was about to call Logan and ask him to meet her when it rang – and she was dressed for a night out on the town, not a meeting with an ancient Fairy Lord.

Finding herself suddenly inside the apartment, Grace immediately shut up and froze, unable to move even with Sookie pulling on her arm. She didn't know if she was at a funeral or a GQ photo shoot, because there was a practical herd of gorgeous men standing around the obnoxious den of that damned apartment, but the instantaneous headache that nearly slapped her down made her not even care for a minute.

"Oh shit," was all Grace could whisper as she leaned against the door facing, clutching her head as she looked around. Every single one of the towering supernatural beings was dressed in a different ensemble of solid black well fitting pants and long sleeve dress shirt or perfect black suit. It was a breathtaking sight, and even Sookie had to take a deep breath as she looked around. There was enough sex appeal floating around that room to make Niagra Falls stop flowing.

Staring in stunned disbelief, Grace's eyes took in every man in that room. There were no words, no expression that would come close to encompassing the surprise she felt at that very moment. Her eyes were seeing it, but they sure as hell weren't believing it because sitting on the two couches in that den was a virtual smorgasbord of problems for her ass. To the left she saw Eric as expected, Nuada looking fantastic as always, and accompanying them her imposing great-grandfather, Lord Niall. The right side was much more interesting, and Grace was stunned to see Lord Elrond dressed to perfection in another one of those perfect dark suits he preferred, Haldir of Lórien dressed to the nines in human clothes, and Glorfindel the Golden Warrior with that billowing blonde hair carefully pulled back into a ponytail against that black silk shirt.

As shocked as Grace was by all of them, they were equally shocked by her. Eric finally let out a soft wolf whistle, and smiled broadly. "Damn Grace, where were you planning to be tonight?" She said nothing in return, completely speechless, wondering if her heart would explode before or after she fainted. Each one of the men took in every inch of her from her perfectly highlighted hair with its tiny gold streaks, to the perfect makeup and sparkling golden chandelier earrings, but it was her clothes that really did it. Grace pulled out all the stops tonight, and that black bandeau jumpsuit was amazing from it's gold sequin trim at the top to the glittering wide gold belt that laid low on her hips. It fit like a second skin from where it started under her arms until the legs loosened at the top of her thighs. Her thick gold chains combined with that hunk of gold pendant she wore were just gleaming against her golden tanned skin, and even those black patent leather platform pumps she was wearing had the tiniest gold piping on them. She looked amazing!

She was also drunker than a skunk, and as Grace stood there, all the liquor she'd consumed in that hotel room before leaving suddenly caught up with her, and she started to laugh. Giggle to be exact, and in a few moments, she was nearly doubled over she thought it was so damn funny. She was laughing like she was sitting in the front row of a comedy show, and Sookie didn't know what the hell to do. Keeping an extremely tight grip on her arm, Sookie just gave them all her biggest fake smile and proceeded to drag her cousin right through the middle of them toward the kitchen and the private bedroom that lay beyond. "We'll be back in a minute!" she called cheerfully, leaving no more than the lingering scent of perfume as she shoved Grace across the hardwood, slamming the bedroom door behind them.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Grace sank into the chair, laughing hysterically. What else could she do? It was either laugh or cry, although her head was hurting bad enough to make tears a real possibility. She was still laughing when she put her head in her hands and began to rub her temples to fend off the splitting headache. Sookie was in an almost state of panic – she knew how being around Haldir and Nuada at the same time affected her cousin – even her head was beginning to hurt - and she knew her cousin had to be desperate for relief. "Oh my god, this is some wild shit!" Was all Grace managed to get out before Sookie rushed back out of the room toward Nuada.

"Where are her pain pills?" Sookie asked firmly, "She's got a headache." The group of men were transfixed as Nuada exited the room, and Sookie headed for the wet bar. She tore through those heavy mahogany cabinets like a house on fire, finally finding the Smirnoff bottle and slamming it down on that granite counter. In complete amazement, they watched her whip out a glass, snatch some ice cubes out of the little refrigerator – she filled the shaker, added the vodka, shook it violently to chill it and filled that glass to the top – once the drink was ready, she replaced everything, even wiping the counter before slamming the cabinet closed with her knee all in under two minutes – after all, Sookie did work in a bar!

The huge fake smile was still firmly in place when she took those two pills from Nuada's hand, and as she wheeled around to leave, she caught sight of the six pair of eyes locked on her and froze. They were all staring at her like she had gone completely insane, and maybe she had. "Do you think she'll need anything else?" Eric asked her sarcastically, and Sookie hesitated. Maybe Grace did. Returning to the wet bar, she retrieved the liter of Smirnoff and headed back to the bedroom.

Entering the room, Sookie found Grace wasn't any better. She had turned white as a ghost, she was holding her head and she was giggling like she was possessed. Rushing over to her, she slammed the glass in her hand. "Drink!" she whispered fiercely, and Grace did, downing the entire glass in two swallows. The burn in her throat made her stop concentrating quite so hard on the burn in her brain, and she felt herself begin to breath easier. Staring at Sookie, Grace was still firmly in the grips of a blood vs. aura war compliments of two of those men in the den, but the liquor was certainly helping – a little too much. Putting the two pills in her mouth, she suddenly realized she didn't have anything to swallow them with, so she snatched the vodka bottle out of Sookie's hands, ripping the top off and drinking straight from it. She was sucking on it like a baby bottle when Eric Northman snatched open the bedroom door and glided in.

"Get Out!" Sookie said loudly as Eric rushed across that room and ripped the bottle out of her hands.

"Damn, Sookie . . . are you trying to help her or kill her?" He nearly yelled and Sookie yelled right back.

"Well ya'll are going to give her a damn heart attack! What do you expect?" They were glaring at each other when Grace started laughing even louder. This was hysterical!

"Mother Fuck!" Eric growled. "She is drunk as hell, and now she's got a damn head rush!"

And Grace did, suddenly feeling the very earth move under her feet as the equivalent of about ten vodka drinks and two pain pills hit her all at one time. "Wow!" Grace said loudly, getting out of the chair to stare up at Eric. "Hey dead man! Did you do it yet?" she blurted out, and Eric frowned down at her in disbelief before giving Sookie a burning stare. Smiling softly, Grace brushed past him to open the door, quietly marching right through the kitchen and into the den. Sookie and Eric were following her, and Eric was about to have a heart attack. If Grace said one word about that damn engagement party in front of Sookie, he would kill her in front of them all! His beautiful girlfriend would pay for giving her that liquor bottle, oh how she would pay!

All of the men stood when the girls entered, and Grace's smile never wavered as she crossed the room. She'd do the elf side first! Hugging Lord Elrond warmly, Grace just beamed. "It is so nice to see you again! It's been so long!" she nearly gushed, smiling up at him. He gave her a strange wide eyed stare, but chose to say nothing.

Next came her very favorite marchwarden. "Hello, Haldir," Grace cooed in her soft southern drawl, reaching up to take his face into her hands. "Never imagined I'd see you here tonight!" she told him brightly, pulling his head down to hers and shifting her mouth to his ear. "You've been a very bad boy, not giving me the favor I asked for . . . don't think I'll forget that," she whispered, shifting her lips to then plant a lingering kiss on his cheek as he stood frozen, eyebrows lifted, wondering what on earth Sookie did to her in the bedroom. "Oops! I left lipstick!" she cheerfully declared, reaching up to wipe it off, as he stared at her like she had lost her mind.

Without pause, Grace just worked on down to the next spot to Glorfindel, the fey hating warrior. Typically, she'd have been scared shitless of that creature, but not tonight! Grace was so drunk, he could've been a baby kitten for all she cared. "Hello good looking," she flirted shamelessly, tracing her fingers down the front placket of a perfect black dress shirt, "wow, love the hair! That is such a hot look for you!" She smoldered a look up at him, reaching up to run her fingers over his hair and flip that ponytail a bit, and the poor elf looked like he was going to faint. All the color drained out of his face and that ancient creature wouldn't dare say a word in return. He just stood there and stared down at Grace in complete amazement.

Not finished by a long shot, Grace turned for the other side of the room, and launched herself into Lord Niall's arms for a lingering hug and a sweet kiss. It was glaring obvious that the girl was not in control of her faculties, but her great-grandfather gladly reciprocated, smiling at her warmly as she pulled away . . . but that smile faded as he watched her head toward Nuada. The well informed fairy knew the two had not spoken since Grace tore from that very same apartment a few days earlier, and he was quite interested to see how this went. He'd never seen Grace and Nuada fight in person, but he'd been eavesdropping on that last one, and he could only imagine how this would go.

With every high-heeled step that brought her closer, Nuada was wondering too. He had not seen or spoken to Grace since that most unfortunate "accident", but he was well aware of how deeply displeased she was with him, and he hoped she would not choose this place or occasion to continue airing her grievances with him. It was no secret that when Grace got angry, she got volatile, and Eric Northman had already informed him of Grace's current attitude prior to her arrival, so Nuada knew he stood just as much chance of getting thrown out the window as he did of getting a hug like everyone else, so he watched her warily when she stopped directly in front of him. Grace was so close he could see the delicate pores in her skin, but she intentionally kept her body from touching him. "Hello Nuada," she said smoothly.

"A'maelamin Erulissë, you look beautiful this evening," he answered sincerely, his eyes automatically lighting with an inner fire as they ran over every single inch of her, thrilled to see Grace looking so well in comparison to the way he'd seen her only days before. "I am very glad you have returned," he said, packing a world of hidden meaning in those few words as he instinctively reached out for her hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

Grace responded by sliding her overly intoxicated self right into his arms for a whole body rub and hug, causing Nuada to wonder if there was a brick hidden in her bra she intended to smack him with. "I would've stopped by sooner, but it slipped my mind!" she offered sarcastically. "Silly me, I seem to be forgetting everything these days!" Nuada graciously hugged her back, but the very feel of her flesh in his hands tormented him, and he'd gone stiff as a board by the time she released him and backed away, unable to resist a few taunting comments. "Love the new car! You'll have to tell me about it . . . I find I'm curious if you paid for it all at once, or if you're gonna be making installments on that . . . maybe you can explain it when you take me for a ride?"

Grace emphasized the word ride, and Eric nearly choked, positive he knew how Grace wanted those installments made and to whom, because Grace was raking a look over Nuada that threatened to tear his clothes off. It nearly tore his heart out instead, but the guardian handled himself perfectly as always, chucking softly as he shook his head in amazement, knowing Grace was toasted as she ambled over to the fireplace just smiling away. Everyone was wondering what she'd do now, so Sookie quickly went to stand beside her, the two girls grinning at the strange group of men like village idiots.

"Where we going ya'll?" Grace finally asked, her southern drawl emphasized dramatically by her liquor consumption. She sounded like a backwoods hillbilly, and Sookie burst out laughing at her, and soon everyone joined in, the tension in the room fading away to the gentle sounds of snickers and deep resonating chuckles. The poor girl had obviously not been expecting the huge collection of men she'd discovered when that door opened, and everyone would readily admit, it was a rather unusual situation – for all of them.

"We are going to dinner Grace to celebrate the holidays," Lord Niall managed to say through a half laughing smile as he took in the sight of his two gorgeous great-grandchildren standing in front of him, one of them obviously inebriated, but both of them seemingly happy. "You both look simply lovely."

Dinner sounded reasonable enough, so as everyone prepared to leave, Grace decided she needed something besides vodka to drink and headed toward the fridge. Her brain was completely fried, and she didn't really care where she went or with who at this point, but it wasn't so fried that she didn't pause for a glance when she sidled past Nuada . . . well actually, it wasn't a glance . . . it was an outright stare because that damn creature looked so good, she could have eaten HIM for dinner.

"You are fucked," Nuada told her softly, smoldering emerald eyes returning the inspection as he eased into the kitchen after her.

Grace turned and flashed her best seductive smile, casually leaning against that stainless steel refrigerator in the exact same way she did a few nights past, knowing the fact it matched her eyes drove Nuada absolutely insane. "Have been many times," she oozed, sliding those glowing grey eyes over to Haldir and back again. "Some that I want to forget, and others that I'd love to be reminded of . . . again and again." The way she was looking at him was just one step short of downright lude, and when a soft pink blush began to creep over Nuada's face, accompanied by an increasing obvious tightening in his groin, Grace started laughing, her devious giggles of self satisfaction echoing through the kitchen as she waltzed right past him and returned to Sookie's side, knowing this was gonna be a quite a night!

As everyone filed outside, it became apparent the elevator couldn't hold them all, so Eric, Grace and Sookie stepped aside, more than happy to let the others go down first. Soon enough the elevator returned, and when they rejoined the group, the difficulty of how they were getting to the restaurant became apparent. Eric and Nuada's cars were two seaters, while the standard limousine would only take six in the back, and they all knew Grace would be driving nowhere so standing in the parking lot, everyone seemed a bit confused for a moment, wondering how this was going to work.

Finally Sookie spoke up, knowing how Grace felt about cars, and seeing that riding in one was her only apparent choice. "Grace, where would you like to ride?"

Sookie was being serious, but at the mere mention of the word "ride", Grace cracked up again, causing Eric to give Sookie a threatening glare like he was literally going to kill her for giving Grace so much liquor. It was very pointed, and it caught Grace's attention – in a very unique way – because she suddenly walked over to her vampire friend and clamped hold of his arm. "I'll just ride with you!" She announced to everyone. "Ya'll have fun!"

Well, that sure as hell was unexpected, and Sookie paled, looking at Grace like she'd completely lost her mind. "Eric?" Sookie gasped, her startled eyes shifting from her cousin to her boyfriend and back again. Eric was staring down at Grace like she was a fungus growing on his arm, and Sookie launched into a list of reasons why that would never work. "Grace, you won't even ride in a car," Sookie told her firmly. "And I just know you're not gonna get in that Corvette! You've never ridden with Eric before, but let me tell you, he'd scare you to death even in your truck! You cannot possible be serious!" Her eyes were as big as saucers as she stared at her cousin, knowing Grace would have a panic attack or worse if she got in that little sports car.

Unfortunately, Grace was undeterred as she walked over to the gleaming red muscle car, seductively sliding her hand up the hood. "Well I've been on it, why can't I get in it?"

That vampire damn near died again when he heard what Grace said, and all the color drained right out of Nuada's face as he remembered her last experience with that red Corvette. Grace was being completely serious, and Sookie was trying desperately to stop her inebriated cousin, positive she would not survive a ride in that car. "Grace honey, I'm sure you'd rather ride with the guys in the limo . . . it's the biggest car." Sookie was being so serious, and it just pushed Grace right over the edge.

Laughing until her eyes watered, Grace draped herself over the top of that Corvette, drawling out her sarcastic answer through a huge grin. "You're absolutely right, Sook . . . I can't wait to ride one of those guys!"

Eric closed his eyes in disbelief at what Grace was saying, while Nuada damn near choked, knowing if this situation was not such an important one and that Lord Niall was watching this, he'd already have her drunk ass under a sleep spell tucked upstairs sleeping this off. Haldir had turned redder than a rose on Valentine's Day, and even Glorfindel was getting interested. He couldn't wait to hear what Grace said next!

Too bad Lord Elrond and Lord Niall didn't want to hear what she said next – they wanted to see her happily seated in that red Corvette, and Eric caught on to the disapproving glare he was getting from both of them pretty fast, quickly going over to open his car door for Grace. "This is your fault!" Eric hissed under his breath, glaring at Sookie as he politely helped Grace inside. Slamming the door shut so hard the entire car rocked, the vampire seethed. "So help me Sook, if your drunk damn cousin throws up in my car, your ass will be the one cleaning it up!" Sookie returned his venomous look, slapping her hands on her hips in disgust, but the mood was broken when Haldir and Glorfindel started laughing, deep rolls of genuine laughter resonating through the darkened parking lot. They'd recently watched Grace throw up for hours in that marchwarden camp, and they could only imagine the entertaining results if she got sick like that in the little red car!

Reading their thoughts, Nuada had to suppress his own chuckle as he stepped a bit closer and threw Eric his keys. "Take the Jag, mellon nín . . . I shall sacrifice myself in the name of friendship this night," he said through a grin, winking at his friend. "And I wish you the very best of luck on your ride . . ." Nuada snickered, gladly willing to sacrifice his new car for the possibility of seeing Eric Northman get puked on by Grace. He'd never had a friend before, but he was beginning to realize that this – THIS - was what friends were for.

Eric was easing Swedish curses under his breath with alarming frequency as he helped Grace out of the Corvette and into the new Jag, reluctantly watching as Nuada politely escorted Sookie to the limousine along with the others, both members of the soon to be betrothed couple dreading the ride before them. The vampire could hardly imagine what Grace might do to him in a car, when compared to what she'd done to him on a car, while Sookie knew the only thing she was gonna find inside that super stretch was supernatural siphoning of her thoughts.

 _Holy Shit! They can hear everything I'm thinking!!_ Was pouring through her mind as Nuada politely gestured her inside, and when he whispered "yes we can" and every pointy eared creature there started laughing, Sookie blushed fire red, knowing they all just heard that. Suddenly she knew why Grace didn't want to ride with them!! They were gonna know every single thing she thought about during this entire ride if they so desired, and Sookie just prayed she didn't think about anything dirty!

Concentrating on the most mundane things possible, Sookie sucked it up and climbed in, only to find her situation growing worse by the second. Lord Niall and Lord Elrond were each at a window with Glorfindel sitting silently between them, looking like a damn caged lion, while she'd ended up directly across from the elven warrior, feeling very much like a piece of bologna she was sandwiched so tightly between Haldir and Nuada. Being this close to Eric was hard to deal with sometimes, but being stuffed between those two stunning supernatural creatures was breathtaking, and Sookie was positive if Grace had been in that seat, she'd have passed out cold as a cucumber.

The poor waitress from Bon Temps was having a hard enough time with it herself, wondering if she'd drown in sexual aura before they ever got to the restaurant, because whatever a fairy did to a vampire, an elf obviously did the same thing to a human, because she was getting a double dose! Sookie could feel herself getting hotter and hotter, and she was ready to start pulling clothes off before they even cleared the main driveway. The only thing that saved her was the sheer terror of being across from Glorfindel, because Grace's description had been perfectly accurate – that hulking elf warrior was the damn scariest thing she'd ever seen!

Thankfully, Grace was having no such problems. She was happily tracing little marks in the fog on the windows as the new Jaguar purred down the road behind the limo, positive Nuada would be pissed to no end when he saw them. It was devious but harmless, and certainly not enough to hold her attention, because she laid into Eric before they got to the first red light. "You could've called and let me know you were planning this!" Grace hissed, the smile her smudged finger drawings gave her transforming into pure poison as she glared at him over the center console. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"Don't you blame this shit on me!" Eric answered furiously. "I invited Lord Niall to dinner, and told Nuada he could come if you didn't object. Niall told me to meet him here, and I didn't know that damn tribe of elves was with him until I walked in. This was supposed to be my night! Now what am I supposed to do?"

The words hung in the air, and Grace knew Eric was looking for a suggestion, but she didn't offer him one. Slipping her shoes off, she started pressing little bare footprints onto the windshield then turned to Eric again. "You think Nuada would have sex with me on the hood of this car?"

Shifting his eyes off the road, Eric stared at Grace so long the car floated across the center line and an oncoming car blew the horn at them, causing him to jerk it back. God how he hoped that same gene was floating around in Sookie somewhere . . . somewhere that he could find, really, really soon! "I'm going to tell him you said that Grace!" he threatened softly, and Grace just giggled.

By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Grace was still giggling, but Sookie was ready to start swigging from a liquor bottle. After that ride, she finally understood what Grace was up against every single time she got close to either Nuada or Haldir, and being with both of them was unbelievable. Thrilled when Eric and her cousin appeared from around the corner, she quickly clamped onto Grace's arm. "Are you ok?" she asked sincerely, genuinely afraid the car may have scared Grace.

"Fantastic!" Grace answered with a huge smile, and she meant it – she was so drunk, her life was perfect.

No sooner were they through the doors, than a most important looking man in a business suit was escorting them to what Sookie assumed was the best table in the place. Thankfully, it was huge and round, then the seating problems started again. Who would sit by whom? As everyone turned to Grace, she simply walked over and took Glorfindel by the arm. "I am sitting with you." She told him firmly, and everyone stared in shock, including the massive blonde elf. It was actually a safe place for Grace to be, because she knew no matter how much that hulking golden haired warrior didn't like her, he'd never let Haldir or Nuada say one word to her so long as he was by her side. She wasn't as drunk or stupid as they thought!

The seating went around the table like this:

Eric – Sookie – Haldir – Lord Elrond – Glorfindel – Grace – Lord Niall - Nuada

Once everyone was happily seated, they began checking out the menus. Neither Haldir nor Glorfindel read English, so the two girls seated with them put their southern manners into effect immediately. Sookie had that menu right under Haldir's nose, and Grace did the same for Glorfindel. With military precision they read every word, carefully explaining to each elf what the things on the paper meant.

Their descriptions were well intended, but even after reading it twice, neither elf had any idea what to order. They'd never heard of most of the food offered here. Finally it was decided the attending Lords would handle their orders, and once that was accomplished, Sookie immediately excused herself to the restroom, giving Grace a commanding glare telling her she had to come as well. Grace didn't catch it because she was too busy avoiding looking at either Nuada or Haldir, so Lord Niall leaned over to her. "My dearest child, I believe Sookie would like you to accompany her."

Grace looked up in surprise, only to see her cousin staring at her across the table, her eyes open wide like a frog being squeezed by a kid. She immediately got up, and the two cousins headed off for a meeting in the ladies room. Behind them at the table, six very gorgeous men had a hearty laugh, appreciating the closeness of the cousins and their strange human ways.

It was Sookie's turn to freak out as soon as that bathroom door closed, and Grace was loving every minute of it. Her eyes were wild as she turned to Grace, her hands moving all around as she talked. "You have got to be kidding me! How could you make me do that!? They know everything - everything I'm thinking!! And I was squeezed in there between them, and they look so good, and they smell so good. Oh my god Grace, how do you do it? I'm so hot I feel like I'm going to catch fire!"

Sookie was pacing and fanning herself as she talked, and Grace just stared at her and laughed. "Welcome to my world!" she told her cousin with a huge grin.

Finally calming herself, Sookie stood there breathing hard staring in the mirror. "Eric is in so much trouble when I get him back to my house, I'm gonna tear him apart! And speaking of being torn apart, have you looked at that damn chunk of blonde haired elf you're sitting beside? My lord – he is huge! He was about to scare me to death on the ride over here!" Grace only laughed harder at Sookie's reaction to meeting Glorfindel. He certainly was an attention getter, and she thought it was hysterical.

Sookie flipped around to face her cousin, her expression suddenly serious. "Grace, what are you going to do tonight? They're both here."

Grace stood there and didn't say anything for a minute. "I have no idea." She finally answered honestly. Her face grew sad as she thought about the two beautiful creatures sitting at that posh round table. She cared so much about both of them, but neither one would ever belong to her. Afraid she might tear up, Grace struggled to stop herself. "Go back," she told Sookie firmly, "I'll be there in a minute." Waiting for Sookie to leave the room, Grace headed for the nearest stall and locked the door. She needed a minute by herself.

While they were in the bathroom, Eric shared his news with Lord Niall. The fairy lord was somewhat stunned, but with more than a little encouragement from his brother Lord Elrond, he handled it quite gracefully and did indeed give Eric his blessings toward the vampires intended marriage proposal to his great-granddaughter. Elves and Fairies loved to celebrate, and even Haldir and Glorfindel found it to be a most joyous occasion. They were already passing champagne around to celebrate by the time Sookie returned.

Lord Niall even found himself with a reason to celebrate. The Fairy Lord had an ulterior motive for this dinner, but so far, he was quite pleased with the results. Niall had been more than upset about Grace's revelations the other night, and he knew her speech to him that morning in the office was little short of a flat out lie. Haldir and Nuada weren't anything remotely close to friends, but if they wanted to pretend they were, he intended to give them the opportunity to prove it.

The Fairy Lord was also very interested to see how his brother handled this strange situation, facing both him and Grace at the same time now that Lord Niall knew about his revelation to his great-grandchild. Lord Niall told no one of his plans to invite the elves after Eric Northman called him, shocking Nuada and the vampire into complete silence when the powerful group arrived that evening. Now that everyone was together, he'd found himself pleasantly surprised in more ways than one – everyone was perfectly well behaved, and while he fully intended to tear Nuada's ass apart for what he did to Grace some nights prior, thankfully, his great-grandchild seemed remarkably intact.

Grace returned to the table not long after Sookie, and the meal progressed simply enough. Sookie was completely oblivious to what took place during her absence, and the conversation flowed right along with the wine. Lord Niall was so pleased to see both of his great-granddaughters looking well he nearly glowed, and even Eric seemed to have a wonderful evening. He didn't eat, but he did enjoy the company and conversation, feeling quite content that his mission was now accomplished. The others handled themselves quite diplomatically, everyone on their very best behavior, and not one nasty glance or word was traded the entire night.

By the time everyone rose to leave, several hours had passed and it was late. They'd had plenty of drinks with dinner, and Grace was feeling as full of herself as she ever had as the group slowly filed out and gathered on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant entrance. The limousine driver brought the car around, and began to open the doors for everyone to enter. Grace was just standing quietly off to the side, watching everyone as they began to get in.

"Are you riding with me again?" Eric asked Grace politely. He actually didn't mind this time because he'd like to tell Grace about his conversation with Lord Niall.

"Erulissë," Nuada prompted her gently, "would you rather come with us?"

Grace still didn't answer, and Lord Niall walked over to her, wondering if his beautiful great-grandchild was too frightened of riding in the same car with Haldir and Nuada to climb inside. "Child know that I would never allow anything or anyone to harm you in that car. Please, come with us."

Sookie and Eric were waiting and watching too. Sookie would like nothing more than to have Eric to herself in that new Jag on the way home, but she'd gladly ride in the limo again if that's what it took to make Grace comfortable. Haldir was also concerned about Grace and eased closer. "You know you would be safe Grace." He told her softly, and she believed him. She wasn't getting in that limousine - but she believed him.

Even Glorfindel and Lord Elrond were focused on her intently, but Grace ignored them all. Finally she saw what she was waiting for, and turned to Eric and Sookie. "Ya'll enjoy the new car on the way home. This was your night after all." She grinned at them both and gave them a devious wink before stepping off the sidewalk to walk around the limousine.

Everyone watched in stunned disbelief as a huge black Escalade appeared out of nowhere and slipped to a halt right beside the waiting car. Without saying one word, Logan climbed out and opened the passenger door for Grace to slide inside. Rolling the window down as that gorgeous vampire slid back into the drivers seat, Grace literally laughed in their faces.

"Ya'll have fun!" she called out, and without a backward glance, Grace was gone.

Well . . . that was certainly unexpected, and everyone stood and stared as the Cadillac disappeared, not entirely sure what to make of that. They'd seen a lot of unusual things from Grace tonight, but that certainly took the cake. Sookie turned to Eric, that vicious glare telling him he better do something, but the vampire had little to offer outside of calling Logan, and he was pretty damn sure that vampire wasn't gonna answer – and he didn't - not even after Eric called fifteen times.

Nuada looked like he'd spontaneously combust, and had Niall not placed a very pointed hand on his arm, there was an excellent chance that mercenary would have made a quite memorable scene, but he didn't. He clamped his mouth shut, and he climbed back in the back of that damn limousine and he sat right there, politely chatting with Glorfindel and Haldir and Elrond like it was the most wonderful thing in the world until they returned to the luxury apartment building. Eric followed in the Jaguar, and soon enough they were all in that parking lot again – everyone that is, except Grace.

Her absence was almost palpable, particularly when everyone was faced with that red Corvette again, but nothing was said, everyone remaining tactfully silent as they began to depart. The limousine was dismissed, Eric and Sookie disappeared toward Bon Temps, and then the elves made their exit, popping themselves back to Rivendell and beyond. It left Nuada and Lord Niall alone in the cold, December night, and Nuada didn't say one word, just blinked and disappeared.

The Crown Royal was in his hand within seconds of his reappearance, and he was seriously considering just sucking it straight from the bottle just as Grace had done earlier when Niall appeared at his side. The fairy lord was obviously concerned for the broken creature who was his friend, and he reached over and plucked the bottle from Nuada's hand before he even got it open. "Do you believe if you become as intoxicated as Grace, you might also forget the problems between you? For I am most positive that was her inspiration this evening," Niall told him, those ancient eyes gentle as they passed a most knowledgeable look over him, a flick of his fingers sending that bottle to infinity.

Nuada stepped away, reluctantly sinking to the leather couch nearest him, his movements being carefully tracked by sea green eyes as Lord Niall came round to ease his elegant form into the huge leather club chair in the corner. "You and Haldir of Lórien managed to feign your way through the meal we just shared, yet the animosity between you is tangible. Do you think me a fool Nuada? And need I remind you, until the blood bond is broken Grace may need that marchwarden? You must leave him be! I care not to repeat my words, but you flaunt your lineage - even to me - and I grow very weary of it." The voice was still melodic, but it was rolling around that huge room, echoing against the tearing emotions that were ripping Nuada's soul apart. "You were given a choice Nuada - never make me regret it."

"Poor choices seem to be the only ones I am capable of making these days," Nuada answered soulfully, his eyes trained on the floor, "but worry not, I am paying for them."

Niall's expression fell, growing even more concerned for the obviously distressed guardian seated across from him. "Nuada . . . Grace flaunted the vampire at you in retaliation because she wishes you to go after her . . . it is some odd game the two of you seem to play, and one I would very much like to see end. You suffer apart, yet you both are as stubborn as the service animals of the past, refusing to admit your need for the other. One of you shall have to concede."

Not one word came out of Nuada's mouth in reply, the sadness of his expression clearly speaking for him. The mercenary was so tired, both mentally and physically, he could hardly even focus his eyes on the fairy in front of him. The stress of harming the human woman he cared so deeply for, along with the strain of having to call his mother from the Shadow Realm to save her was enough to push even his limits, then Grace had made it hurt so much worse when she cursed him for a manipulative liar and walked out. His heart had soared earlier that night when Grace returned, beautiful and healthy again. Hearing her laugh, seeing her smile, receiving those smoldering glances . . . it had all soothed his soul . . . assured him Grace was truly going to be ok, and that she did not hate him. Then he'd been forced to stand there and watch her drive away with Logan, and in combination with everything else, his mind was crippled.

Those haunting eyes revealed his desperation, and Niall came to him, crossing the room to place a comforting hand on Nuada's arm as he eased to sit beside him, a firm expression demanding he listen. "Grace is a forgiving child, Nuada, and I am positive all will be made well in time but you must promise to be more careful from this point forward. You have her better interests at heart, but you must think before you act, and do not forget your own . . . because I fear you are in more danger of being possessed by her than she is of you."

Nuada's expression softened slightly, but he did not respond and Niall's eyes began to glint as he tried to insert some humor to this unpleasant situation. "Please do not make me force you to fix these things, Nuada. I fear I received my fill of pushing against the bulging buttocks of stubborn donkeys as a child, and I should hate to repeat the actions in order to wrangle the two of you into submission."

"I do not intend to be wrangled into anything," Nuada finally replied, his voice completely flat and cold. "If Erulissë prefers to be with a vampire, then that is exactly where she may remain, because I will endure eternity alone before I beg a human to return to me." Jerking himself off the couch, he stalked down the hall, leaving Niall shaking his head in the den as he slowly faded away.

Hurling his clothes across the room moments later, Nuada could have used a little butt shoving – or better yet, a good firm kick to the ass – because not only did he just sit in Niall Brigant's face and lie like a dog, he would have begged Grace just like one as well if he thought she might return. It was only the fear of what he might find that was keeping him away, because Nuada knew if she was with Logan, he would kill him – and he was scared that he might just kill them both.

Thankfully, Nuada had nothing to be concerned about. Grace was not with Logan. She was not that stupid, nor was she surprised when she heard the increasingly familiar sound of a supernatural creature joining her on the balcony of that hotel suite. Grace was not only expecting it, she was waiting for it. "Took you a while," she said softly, not looking up from the cup of hot chocolate throwing little swirls of smoke into the freezing night air.

A silent frown creased his face . . . one that Grace felt more than saw, the darkness that surrounded them blocked his face from her, but she knew it was there. She knew everyone was furious at the way she chose to leave that restaurant, knew he was the most furious of all, but she also knew he was secretly pleased with the way he just found her.

"It is too cold out here, you should go inside," Niall ordered softly, waiting for Grace to slowly come to her feet and cross into the room before pulling the French doors closed behind her.

Still wrapped in that blanket, Grace slid herself onto the bed, settling into the very center, nestling herself against the pile of pillows as she sipped her drink and studied him. Silently Lord Niall slipped to sit beside Grace, his hand instinctively reaching out for hers. "Please go home child," he said suddenly, his voice so gentle, yet torn with emotion as those sea green eyes shimmered under the soft lights of the bedside lamp. "Nuada misses you."

Grace stared at Niall coldly, not believing Nuada would have admitted such a thing to anyone, ever. Her guardian was, after all, the one who'd left her twice, then saw fit to fuck her stupid then erase her mind after she came back home. It didn't exactly endear the creature to her, and her eyes flashed with anger as she looked at her great-grandfather. Grace was still very much under the influence of alcohol, her tongue loosened from its normally liberal restrains as she ground out an answer. "Nuada twists my thoughts, and he's a liar! If he wanted me to go home, he should ask me himself."

The deep breath Lord Niall pulled in didn't calm the pace of his heart at her words, because Grace spoke the truth. Nuada was a liar, and he'd lied to her often. That beautiful ancient face was still creased into a slight frown when he spoke again. "You are absolutely right Grace, Nuada has lied to you and I will not apologize for him, but know this as well . . . he cares for you, he fights for you, and anything he hides from you is only to shield you from the pain it may cause. Now, I know you do not understand child, but there are some things you simply do not need to know and were it not for his stubborn pride, he would indeed be here himself." That strange musical voice was gentle and compassionate as Niall spoke, the underlying tremor of emotion telling Grace it was very difficult for him to tell her those things, but also that he desperately wanted her to believe them.

"It's not fair!" she growled out, but her face was softening at the same time. "I went back to Nuada, told him how much I missed him, and he repaid me by sucking my brain dry! And if he's pissed because I left with Logan tonight, then fine! I didn't do it to hurt him, and I didn't leave to hurt you either - I just needed to get away from that place . . . you know how hard it is for me to be around Haldir and Nuada at the same time."

Frowning, Lord Niall realized how unfairly he had treated Grace by inviting both Haldir and Nuada to that dinner table, and in retrospect it was a horrid thing to do considering everything Grace and Nuada had been through of late. If the Fairy Lord wanted to test the two warriors feelings for one another, she should not have been included. "I do apologize, child, but Haldir is long departed and there is no reason for you to remain here. Go to Nuada, child . . . go home."

Raising his elegant form from the bed, Lord Niall looked at Grace, his expression compassionate yet imploring as he considered her. "He needs you Grace . . . and you need him," the fairy reminded her gently, then the elegant form was gone.

*********************************************

When Grace found Nuada later that night, he was sitting cross legged on the floor of the apartment study, the destroyed golden puzzle box in front of him on the table. The guilt of harming Grace had gnawed his soul to the bone, leaving nothing but a skeleton of emotions bleaching in the unrelenting heat of abandonment, and that poor creature felt very much like the puzzle looked . . . beautiful but broken – torn apart – shattered into thousands of pieces, and he wondered if the pieces of his heart would ever go back together again.

Completely lost in thought, Nuada didn't hear Grace enter the apartment, and it took a moment for him to realize Grace had slipped to sit beside him, the gentle scent of tangerines and flowers shifting through the air to tease at him. He did not know that he was ready to speak with her, and his face was little more than a painful grimace when he met her gaze, his eyes pleading with her to remain silent. "Erulissë, please," he murmured brokenly, "the past days have been very difficult for me, and I fear my soul will not survive if you say some vicious thing to me right now, so saes, please if you have come to tease me yet again, I would ask that you please walk away. The game we have played is over."

Nuada's voice trembled, but there was a sincere warning underneath, and Grace was stunned to see him wounded so deeply – seemingly even more so than when this entire thing began and he left her initially. She was positive she'd pissed him off by leaving the restaurant with Logan, but this was not anger – this was pain, and tears bit at her eyes when she saw the sheer torment reflecting in those big emerald eyes. Determined to stop his suffering, Grace immediately slid closer, cupping his face in her hands while carefully planting the softest of kisses on that perfect alabaster forehead. The very flesh of his body trembled as warm hands meticulously tucked every strand of that silky golden curtain over his shoulders, exposing his chest so she could place those same comforting fingers over his heart, warm blue flickers easing the terrible pain he felt, soothing his soul, assuring him everything would be alright again.

"Everything's gonna be fine, Nuada, I promise," she murmured softly, wrapping her arms around him and enveloping him in a much needed hug.

Their auras bound instantly, her warmth washing through his entire being, and Nuada felt like he was drowning. The sheer joy of feeling her touch again incapacitated him . . . the idea that she had voluntarily returned to him inconceivable after he watched her leave with that vampire earlier, yet Grace was there. His beloved A'maelamin was sitting in front of him, kissing his face and talking in that soft sultry southern voice he heard in his dreams. Mind racing, Nuada felt weak, reeling from her touch . . . could it be possible that this woman really did care for him?

Gently pushing her away, Nuada tilted his head to the side and studied her in confusion. "Why have you come back, Erulissë? he demanded desperately.

Grace could feel the weight of his gaze and his heart as Nuada spoke, and she knew the next words she said would be some of the most important ones of her life. "Logan gave me a ride, Nuada. It was nothing more," she answered quietly, careful to keep her voice gentle as she reached to grasp those beautiful hands in hers, lifting huge grey eyes full of their own emotion to meet his. "And I am not interested in Logan," she told him firmly, "but I am very interested in you."

White fire burned in those green depths as Nuada looked back at Grace. The tables had now turned. Now he was the one fighting to understand, desperate not to be abandoned, terrified of being left alone. The torment showed plainly on his face, and Grace knew Nuada was struggling to forgive her. Squeezing his hands in hers, she turned slightly. "We could do it together," she told him softly, her eyes moving to the shattered puzzle box. "The way we used to."

Emotion closed his throat, but Nuada nodded to her - yes, he would like that very much – so snuggling against him, Grace continued to hold Nuada's hands and very carefully slipped the first piece into place. It was the way they would spend the remainder of the night – sitting as friends, just as they had on the balcony of Imladris so very long ago, working this golden puzzle box – and yet again, that puzzle would be used as a tool to heal, helping them both to forgive, and to rebuild the trust that had been lost between them.


	27. The Warm Fuzzies

Chapter 27 – The Warm Fuzzies

"They were evil," Grace told Logan with a serious expression, "so I killed them."

The four sets of supernatural eyes locked on her tired little human form knew that was absolutely not true, but what else was Grace supposed to say? After all, she was solely responsible for the slow roasted death of not one or two, but probably what used to be at least thirty of the most breathtakingly beautiful roses anyone was ever going to see.

Grace didn't know why she did it. Maybe it was because she was so tired – She'd stayed up all night, sitting beside Nuada working on that puzzle until the sun was well up in the sky. Her beautiful guardian needed that puzzle far more than Grace did that night, and she didn't move from Nuada's side until he finally relaxed, began to talk, and actually managed a soft smile.

That elegant hand had still been firmly gripping hers when Nuada finally pulled himself from the floor, and when he led Grace to his bed, she didn't say one word. It was her turn to hold him now, and she did, cradling that beautiful head with it's glowing blonde hair and softly rubbing it while she kissed him gently on the forehead. Nuada was exhausted, and it only took a moment for him to be lost deep in sleep. Grace didn't know what had upset her guardian so, and unfortunately she couldn't stay around to find out. She had things to do and places to be that afternoon.

Her trip to the hotel for a shower and clean clothes, turned into something else entirely, and it was much later than she expected before Grace was able to pick up Sookie. She was taking her cousin shopping for an outfit to wear at the party – it was one of Grace's primary duties as requested by Eric Northman. That six hour shopping trip had pleased her cousin to no end, but it had done nothing to end the roaring hangover Grace had, or that pounding headache that no amount of Motrin or Tylenol was going to eradicate. It also hadn't stopped Eric from calling to politely remind Grace of her second appointment of the day, or early morning as it were. Time was running short, and the vampire needed her to meet Logan at Fangtasia when they closed to look at flower arrangements and celebration cakes. That black Escalade growled to a halt behind Fangtasia at 2:30am in the morning just as Eric requested, and Grace was ready to growl herself when she climbed out.

The overly tired and overly irritated human had been typing away on her new telephone and singing to no end when she pulled up behind the bar. There was a custom stereo system in that Escalade that could break glass, and it was jacked to the hilt, tearing every filthy syllable Prince belted out to "Pussy Control" through that open sunroof. That song held special meaning for Grace tonight, and she played it three times before she ever glanced up, shocked to find Logan's dark green eyes intently staring at her over that perfect expanse of black hood.

Slipping from the warm leather, Grace had already seen that the red corvette was missing, and the silent little mood detector dial that is hidden inside each and every female human swung over to "BITCH" instantly. Every woman knows about that dial, and it's just too bad the men of this world have never caught on. The choices are very simple – tired, horny, aggravated, happy, satisfied (that one is rusty – most women don't use it much), and everyone's personal favorite – bitchy. And boy did Grace feel bitchy!

Grace had already endured the day from hell, and of all the places she wanted to be right then, Fangtasia was the very last one. She was ready to go to sleep, she was ready to bitch slap somebody, and no matter how much she wanted Sookie to enjoy this party, nothing that didn't have a hole between their legs better lay another finger on her if they wanted to live to tell about it. Keeping that in mind, Grace ignored those deep green eyes and their owner as she marched right past Logan and slipped though the employee entrance of Fangtasia. Bitchy Human + Horny Vampire = Disaster and if Logan wanted to survive, he didn't need to talk to Grace about anything outside of flowers or cakes for the duration of this evening.

Eric being gone was actually a hidden blessing. Pam the vampire was who Grace had been texting with in the truck, and the duo was cooking up a little surprise. If Eric Northman was going to torture Grace, Grace intended to torture his dead ass back. Seeing that he was gone, Grace was thrilled and pissed off simultaneously. She could steal a few minutes in his office before he arrived . . . but he also better get his ass back and fast if he expected her to stay.

Thankfully, Grace found Pam waiting for her by the door, and the devious pair went straight for Eric's computer. Grace wasn't only proficient with her CAD design software, and she'd brought her scandisk drive along for the ride. It was plugged in within seconds, downloading a new screensaver and a rather entertaining song on the vampire's computer. When he touched that keyboard, Eric Northman was in for a little surprise! The two women couldn't wait to see his reaction, but he needed to get his dead ass there first. Grabbing her cell phone, Grace texted Eric . . . WTFRU?

Eric was with Nuada, and they'd been together for many hours now. Grace wasn't the only one who'd had a long day. Nuada laid in bed for hours after Grace left, enjoying her lingering smell against his skin, pondering everything they had been through these past few months, weighing his feelings for the strange human he stood guardian over. He needed the comfort of a friendly ear to sympathize with his plight, and Eric gladly provided it.

The moment Eric's phone alerted him to Grace's text, they were just finishing up their discreet trip to meet Malacoda, the private jeweler that served the upper echelon of supernatural creatures in that area. Eric needed to pick up Sookie's engagement ring, and Nuada tagged along. Malacoda was a strange little creature with black hair and black eyes, who just so happened to be a demon. As a personal friend of Eric's, his services had been procured to design Sookie's engagement ring. Malacoda simply beamed when he revealed his most stunning achievement to date, stunning the powerful duo with the magnificent hand carved diamond and platinum creation. Eric was most pleased with the final result, and he was positive Sookie would be thrilled when he slipped it on her hand in just three days time.

"And might I help you with anything My Lord?" Malacoda asked Nuada politely when Eric's business was concluded. His black eyes were carefully averted from Nuada's, a sign of the utmost respect, and he was making Nuada somewhat uncomfortable to say the least.

"You sure can!" Eric answered quickly, not catching the jeweler's terminology as he referred to his friend, although it certainly would have helped him in the future if he had. "Nuada is in need of a Christmas gift for a very special young woman."

"I am?" Nuada asked quickly, turning a somewhat startled expression to Eric.

"You most certainly are." Eric told him firmly. "If you want to make things right again with a human woman, then the jewelry store is always where you start. You have a lot to learn about girls my friend!"

Truer words had never been spoken. While Nuada was well versed in the human world, he wasn't particularly familiar with human women . . . ok, it wasn't that he wasn't familiar, he didn't know one damn thing about them, and while he had more money than he knew what to do with, he didn't have one clue what to get Grace for Christmas – hadn't even thought about it actually – but if Eric felt this would help put him back in Grace's favor, then he would certainly go along.

Beaming at the prospect of assisting Nuada, Malacoda gave the powerful creature his full attention. Leading him past the standard jewelry cases to the exclusive showcases in the back, he posed some gentle questions to Nuada to assist him in choosing the right gift . . . what was her favorite color? What did she like best about him? What type of jewelry did she usually wear?

Nuada struggled with most of them, quickly realizing he didn't know nearly so much about Grace as he thought he did. Eric finally intervened with a quick call to Sookie. His lovely girlfriend was completely pissed off at being woke up in the middle of the night, but the prospect of Nuada getting Grace something nice for Christmas made it a much nicer interruption. Sookie didn't know what her cousin's favorite color was, and as far as Nuada was concerned, Grace had told her about several things she dearly loved, none of which she was willing to repeat! If it had to be something morally correct, it would definitely be his green eyes.

That information sealed the deal, and Malacoda soon produced the most stunning pair of emerald and diamond earrings either man had ever seen. Nuada instantly bought them for Grace, spending enough to even get Eric's attention. Both men left very satisfied, and they were still feeling quite pleased with themselves when they walked through the back door of Fangtasia.

The three people inside didn't even realize the Corvette had returned, they were so deeply engrossed in the finer points of flower arrangements. Pam and Grace had thankfully agreed on the same cake immediately, so that topic was closed, but the flowers were proving much more difficult. Pam honestly couldn't care less and Grace thought it was going to look like a funeral home, although something in the very back of her mind thought it was oddly suiting since vampires were dead after all.

Grace had actually been snickering over that thought while she leaned way back in one of the chairs with her feet propped on the table. Her eyes were glued to Logan's tight vampire ass, wiggling away in those snug jeans as he traipsed back and forth, hauling huge pots of flowers for her and Pam to consider. She was also blabbing away on the telephone, and anyone within earshot could easily tell she was talking to a man . . . a man she obviously knew very well. Grace was completely oblivious to everything around her, reminiscing about shared beer on the beach and a whole list of other things.

Pam was listening intently, surprised to hear such suggestive things coming out of Grace's mouth, and even Logan found himself intrigued at the vague filth that petite tanned human was drawling into that phone as he went by. The two vampires had no way to know that Grace was on the phone with one of her dearest, albeit male, friends. Trey Lockhart was the talented gentleman who customized her truck, and he thought of Grace as a little sister. He would do anything on earth for her, but he'd never do one thing to her – their relationship was purely platonic, although that didn't stop them from flirting desperately with one another. The sweet and ever thoughtful man had called to invite Grace to his Christmas party, and he was not taking her refusal gracefully!

Grace was now explaining to Trey that she was simply not available . . . "Sweetheart, you know I would be there if I could . . . yes, I want to see your new Harley . . . yes, I remember how good it feels when we ride together . . . I know . . . maybe you could email me the new pictures of the custom grills . . . there's no way Trey, I'm not even in the state." Grace continued to listen for a few minutes, no one able to hear the pleading that was coming over that telephone line. "I miss you too, and you better tell the guys I said hey . . . " she finally continued, "I can't Trey, you aren't listening to me, I'm not even in South Carolina! I'm going to be at another party that night in Shreveport . . . you still aren't listening!" She was rolling her eyes as she stared up at the ceiling, listening to another tirade coming from the other end, frowning desperately as she twirled her thumb ring in irritation. After what seemed like an eternity, she sat up, throwing her feet off the table and leaning forward in her chair. "No I do not think being at Fangtasia that night is more important than seeing you again, so don't be surprised if I hang that black bitch I drive in the wind headed that way once this shit is over."

Those words had barely left her lips when Grace found Eric Northman's face in hers, and she nearly pissed her pants. There was a lot to be said for being able to move silently so fast you couldn't even see it, and Eric took full advantage of that ability. "I know I did not just hear you say something about leaving again Grace." He growled out viciously in her ear, and pure shivers ran down Grace's spine.

Passing him a FU glare, she flipped the phone to her other ear. "The walls have ears, I'll catch you later." Snapping it shut, Grace turned on Eric. "Eves dropping asshole!"

The words barely got out of her mouth before Grace froze. Logan had just put the third flower arrangement on the table in front of Grace and those pools of grey passed right over the blonde hair and blue eyes of Eric Northman to land firmly on that huge mass of greenery and roses. Maybe it was because she'd just gotten off the phone with her friend she couldn't see, maybe it was because of what Haldir did to her earlier, maybe it was the fact that Nuada was standing across from Eric looking like he wanted to choke her to death . . . who knew, but whatever it was, when Grace saw that damn giant bush of roses, hell itself came over her.

Suddenly all the pent up anger Grace had been fighting to contain over the past few weeks, and especially the past few hours came boiling to the surface. She thought about sitting in that rose garden the morning Haldir of Lórien walked away from her, about how Nuada had obviously erased her memory several nights before, and about how both of them seemed to delight in using her mind and her body for their personal entertainment with no regard for her feelings whatsoever . . . the fact that she was trapped in Shreveport where she couldn't do what she wanted, could see who she wanted, couldn't even talk to her old friends on the damn phone without having to answer for it . . . The entire situation was more than she could bear, and her eyes flooded black, the blue flash brilliant and instantaneous, and when it was over, Grace had fried every last rose right down to the damp green Styrofoam.

Poor Logan, he didn't know what the fuck just happened. One minute he was holding this gigantic mass of perfect red roses . . . probably thirty of them or more . . . then instantly they were gone. What had once been a breathtaking arrangement had been completely transformed . . . now the sparkling green vase looked very much like a giant incense burner sitting in the middle of that table, sad burnt little twigs sticking up into the air a few inches in every direction, silent wisps of dark grey smoke curling through the air above them.

Shocked to his very core, the blonde hunk just stood there for a moment staring blankly at the strange sight. Then he stepped closer, his hands waving around wildly as he frantically searched the air where the flowers used to be, not entirely understanding where they went. Eric was shocked too. Not only by what Grace said into that phone, but by what Grace just did, and he found himself praying this hadn't been her reaction to everything Logan had shown her. If it was, they'd be here all night!

Pam was watching Logan wave his arms like a wounded duck, and she thought it was the funniest thing she'd seen lately, and dammit it all she didn't have her camcorder again! Silently, the vampire vowed every time Grace walked in the building, she was going to go get it. Nuada didn't say one word, just shook his head at the damage Grace had done, but even he felt sorry for Logan. That poor vampire took those flowers seriously!

That gorgeous blonde hunk with the perfect tight ass was still standing in front of that table, his face now blank, deep in some state of stunned disbelief. It seemed as if he was trying to figure out if he'd lost his mind . . . surely if he stared at that green vase long enough the picture was going to change . . . the flowers were going to come back, he was positive they were. Finally Eric eased over beside him, chuckling softly as he placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "Logan . . ." he told him seriously, "the roses are gone friend. . . let it go." Eric had seen Grace fry something before – a vampire to be more specific – and he knew those flowers were never coming back!

Logan suddenly turned to Grace, finally realizing she must have destroyed the flower arrangement. "What the hell did you just do to my flowers?" his stunned voice demanded, deep green eyes wide with disbelief as he glared down at her.

Grace was suddenly mortified. She didn't mean to slow roast Logan's pretty red roses, and she honestly didn't mean to hurt his feelings either, but just the expression on his face was funnier than hell. Biting the inside of her lip, she stared at those smoking twigs, struggling to find something, anything she could say in return while still keeping a straight face. Putting her best "liar" expression firmly in place, Grace turned those huge grey eyes up at his and made her voice just as serious as it had ever been. "They were evil," she drawled out slowly, "so I killed them . . . I did it to save you Logan . . . to save us all."

Logan looked down at Grace like he honestly believed her. He snatched his hands away from that vase, and slowly backed away from the table like the burnt sticks were coming after him,   
and a smile came across Eric Northman's face like he hadn't had in years. Nuada started laughing so hard, he actually had to turn away, and Pam took off, rushing for the storage room and her purse. She wanted to get her camera!

Try as she might, Grace couldn't possibly keep a straight face any longer. Clamping her hand over her mouth, she practically jumped out of the chair and headed for Eric's office. When she got that door closed behind her, Grace doubled over, nearly busting a gut she was laughing so hard. By the time Eric and Nuada joined her, Grace had laughed until her eyes were watering, and it was fixing to get worse.

Eric quietly assumed his position behind the desk, positive lecturing Grace was a waste of his time. Hell, it was funny – even he had to admit it! Grace was so focused on the flower funeral, she forgot all about the computer, but Pam didn't. She silently came into the office, carefully placing herself behind Eric, zooming that camcorder in close so she could watch.

Grace may have temporarily forgotten, but she nearly peed her pants when Eric Northman hit the first key on that keyboard to check his email. That computer started belting out the Champs rendition of "Tequila" while an entire chorus line of dancing possums cavorted across the screen dressed in little white wedding dresses. Even as serious as Pam was most of the time, she had a huge smile plastered across her face, and it was so big it would have made Sookie Stackhouse proud!

Eric was completely speechless as those soft blue eyes took in Grace's handy work, and his shocked expression instantly peaked Nuada's curiosity. Easing around the desk, he was just in time to hear that singer yell "TEQUILA" while that row of voluptuous cartoon possums turned around and mooned them, shaking their fake furry little derrières right into that screen. As angry as he was at Grace's comment earlier, even Nuada couldn't stop from laughing right in Eric's face. That was some funny shit right there.

Leaving the well entertained threesome to themselves, Grace went outside, praying the cold air would make her stop laughing and wake up. Things are always funnier when you're delirious from lack of sleep, and after getting only four in the past forty, Grace was certainly at that point. Her tailgate was down, and her feet were dangling over the edge when Pam joined her, popping open the beer she offered her. They were talking of nothing when they saw Logan bring out that vase of roasted twigs. He looked so sad, Grace wondered if he was going to have a secret memorial service for them later, but beside her Pam was delighted. She took that camcorder and zoomed it in on those smoldering sticks, making sure she got a good picture of each and every one. That pretty blonde vampire didn't know who she could show the footage to later, but she'd find somebody!

Remembering Logan's reaction from earlier, and enjoying the vampire's delight beside her a little too much, Grace couldn't help herself. She nudged Pam on the arm, then focused intently on the vase. In an instant it was gone – reduced to no more than ash in the wind and Logan nearly pissed his pants.

"What the Fuck?" he bellowed, holding out his now empty hands in front of him.

Grace damn near fell off the tailgate laughing, but Pam was too busy to laugh. She was carefully zooming in and out as Logan danced around in strange little circles, positive something was after him, and Eric and Nuada had no doubt Grace had done something else to the poor creature when they came outside.

If circumstances had been different, Eric would've told everyone to go home, but he couldn't. He was out of time to plan this party, and these decisions had to be made. Threatening everyone with bodily harm if they didn't behave, he told Pam to get Grace's ass back inside and in that chair while he literally begged Logan to bring in the last several arrangements from his truck. Logan honestly didn't want to. That poor thing was so dazed and confused, he didn't know what was going on! Unable to tell Eric no, he finally relented, muttering viciously to himself as he opened the rear doors to his truck and began bringing new arrangements inside.

Grace and Pam patiently sat on the tailgate, making crude comments about Logan's extremely nice backside as he dutifully took the remaining flowers inside. When the duo finally joined him, Logan had carefully lined a stunning assortment of arrangements along the stage, and when the girls seated themselves, the vampire placed himself protectively between the flowers and Grace, passing her a threatening look that dared her to try anything else. Eric and Nuada were standing quietly over to the side, and Eric had already passed Grace a few warning glares of his own. She better not do anything else to upset his friend.

Unfortunately, Grace didn't listen. She'd been through so much that day her nerves were completely shattered, her soul hurting so bad she was desperate to stop the pain. She'd been pushed farther than she could tolerate, and she seized the opportunity to push someone else the same way, and Pam had that camcorder just waiting.

Poor, poor Logan . . . every time he faced the girls and began to speak, Grace would take every vine in those huge masses of flowers and make them reach out for Logan like they were gonna grab him, but when he'd turn back around, she'd drop them. It was all Grace could do to keep a straight face, and everyone else was about to die. They knew it was horrible for Grace to do such a thing to that unsuspecting vampire, but it was just so damn funny, no one really wanted her to stop.

That blonde hunk was not as oblivious as they thought he was. Logan was positive the devious little human smiling smugly back at him from that chair was doing something, and he played along for a while, slowly turning around from time to time to glance behind him. Grace dropped the vines before every turn . . . all except that last one. Logan did his vampire quickie movement thing and when he flipped around it was so fast it would make your head spin, and his literally did when he saw pieces of those flower arrangements reaching for him. Knowing the gig was up, Grace just kept hold of those vines with her mind, and twisted a few around Logan's waist like he was getting a warm little plant hug.

Unfortunately, the warm fuzzies were lost on Logan, because that good looking blonde vampire went totally ape shit. I don't know that anyone has ever tried to choke a poinsettia to death before, but Logan did that very thing. The others watched in complete amazement as that tormented vampire fell on that flower arrangement like a wild animal, and flower petals and green leaves were soon flying in every direction. Raging in some odd language that sounded peculiarly like German, Logan ripped every flower out of that innocent green vase and hurled them across the hardwood floor. If it had been a ball toss competition, he would've won because some of them went at least twenty feet . . . he even stomped a few of them before he was finished.

Grace almost fell out of her chair she was laughing so hard, and she knew if she didn't calm down, she was gonna start snorting like a pig in a minute. Pam was out of her chair, videotaping every second, thrilled to the pits of her dead soul with the entertainment Grace was providing. "You know Eric, we could sell tickets to see this!" she called out behind her, and Eric didn't entirely disagree.

He tried very hard to put on his serious face as he came to stand over Grace, that disapproving frown completely undercut by the laughter dancing in his eyes. "You should be ashamed of yourself." He told her coldly, but Grace only laughed harder. She was cackling like a pen full of chickens, when Logan whipped around to face her.

Absolutely beside himself, Logan leveled those dark green eyes at Grace across that open expanse of empty tables. "I'm going to stomp your ass next!" he roared, and Grace suddenly realized Logan was serious.

"Oh fuck!" she mumbled, hauling ass out of that chair, trying desperately to get to Nuada for protection before that completely incensed vampire wrung her spiteful little neck. Nuada had stepped to Eric's office for something, and he didn't know what hit him when Grace came tearing down that hall. Grace hadn't acknowledged Nuada the entire night, but she sure acknowledged him then, because she nearly flattened him when she jumped into his arms. Logan was right behind her, almost tearing the wall down when he came around it, and if Eric hadn't been a little faster than he was, Logan just might have stomped Grace.

"He's gonna kill me!" Grace screeched, twisting herself behind her guardian so the extraordinarily good looking floral designing vampire couldn't reach her.

Nuada didn't know what the hell was happening, and he wasn't entirely sure why Eric had now grabbed hold of Logan and was dragging him backwards down the hall. Grace wasn't doing anything but saying "I'm sorry" over and over again, and Logan was ranting like a madman in what Grace was now absolutely positive was German . . . or something very similar since he'd   
just called her a "Gottverdammt Schlampe" . . . pointing at Grace like he couldn't wait to get his hands on her. It took Eric a few minutes, but he was finally able to make Logan stop screaming and begin to calm down.

Now Eric was the pissed off vampire in residence, and he was just turning around to tear Grace a new one himself, when Nuada did it instead. Catching Grace in one fluid motion, he pinned her to the wall, his eyes burning with rage, his voice dripping with venom. "You were gone when I woke, Lirimaer . . . after all your sentiments of kindness last night, you left yet again the very first chance you got . . . and now you smell like Haldir of Lórien!" he growled in her face. "And you have another god damned blocking spell on you! So tell me, Erulissë, are you planning to run away and hide again? Because this is no fucking game that we play and I am sick of it!"

Grace nearly shit herself, positive that long, hot shower she took before going there that night would have washed off all traces of Haldir, while poor Eric was still trying to calm Logan down, and it took him a second to realize what he'd just heard. Pam didn't care personally. She was still taping away, completely oblivious that her help might be needed for anything . . . but it soon became evident somebody better do something, because for the first time ever, Grace got in Nuada's face. The bastard had a nose like a bloodhound, and his hands were snaking dangerously close to Grace's neck as he waited for his response, and he got one alright, but it certainly was not the one he expected, and it was far, far from the silent submission he'd gotten from her last time.

Taking her mind and her hands, Grace shoved that damn glaring creature out of her face, slamming Nuada across the hall so hard the wall groaned, and she went right after him like a house on fire. "You sorry, self-centered SOB, you better take your fucking hands off me and don't you ever crawl your ass up in my face again!" she growled out at him, her voice raw with fury as the blue flickers started to roar under her skin. "You knew where I was gone the whole time, so don't you throw that shit up to me. If you'd wanted to see me last week, all you had to do was come knocking . . . and I didn't leave you this morning because I wanted to, I did because I had to, and if you'd kept your damn mouth shut none of this would have happened – you and Eric both can go straight to fucking hell for what I've been through today!"

Completely confused by her violent reaction, Nuada's face clouded as Eric eased to his side, unsure what the raging human in his hall was referring to. "What happened Grace?" Eric demanded loudly, desperate to know where this was going, wondering if something happened during her shopping trip with Sookie that afternoon. Logan wanted to hear too. The plants were completely forgotten as he stepped closer, wondering what had upset her so badly.

"What happened?" Grace fumed, turning her venomous glare toward Eric. "I'll tell you what the fuck happened – instead of spitting in his face like I should have for sucking my brain dry, I stayed up all night with your good buddy here, trying to make him feel better about whatever crawled up his ass and died, but then I had to leave and go back to the hotel, because all my crap is there and today was the day for me to do YOU a favor and take Sookie shopping for your precious little engagement party like YOU asked me too . . . only I got a little surprise interruption before I left . . . a surprise visitor in fact!" Grace spat out the word visitor like she would vomit, and Nuada's eyes began to flood crimson as he and Eric both easily guessed who that visitor was.

"Haldir of Lórien came to see you?" Eric growled out viciously. "What the fuck has that damn elf done now?"

"He's done plenty and it's all your fucking fault!" Grace screamed in return, so furious her voice was shaking, her eyes blazing as they locked on the vampire. "You remember our little conversation the other night, Eric? We didn't know if Mr. Mind Eraser over here hid the shit about your party or not? We didn't know if I could be around Sookie, so you asked me – no, you begged me to go get a blocking spell from somebody else so I could do all this shit for you? Well I did – I called Cairbre that same night and begged his ass for a blocking spell, only he wouldn't give it to me . . . Since Mouth of the South over there threatened him for helping me last time, he said he had to go ask permission from Haldir first!"

"But Nuada had already done it," Eric interrupted, enraged by what he was hearing. "Hell, we all went to dinner last night . . . Sookie didn't know a thing!"

"Lucky you," Grace spat back, "but I'd already asked for the damn favor, and undoubtedly something in that seafood pasta affected Haldir's brain and made him reconsider saying no, because he definitely changed his mind, and he came to deliver that spell in person this afternoon!"

"What has he done to you, Erulissë?" Nuada demanded, his voice more demonic than it was the night he slammed her against the refrigerator.

Grace seethed, turning her attentions back to Nuada, her eyes black as they met those blazing crimson ones. "You wanna come over here and fuck my mind again and find out? Or do you think you've done enough damage for a few days? You and your damn attitude – do you really think Haldir of Lórien is scared of you? Because let me tell you he isn't. All you did when you threatened to kill that bastard if he put another hand on me, was dare him to come and do it . . . and by god, he dared. Your mouth turned me into fucking bait, and he took it – hook, line and sinker!"

"What did he do to you, Erulissë? And I will not ask again!" Nuada retched back, his eyes on fire as he stared back at Grace, waiting to hear the ending to this story.

"He did exactly what I asked him to do," Grace growled. "He came and put a blocking spell on this pendant. And he made sure to put it on there before he crawled in that bed on top of me, so I couldn't call for you while he was showing me just how much he could put his hands on me . . . he came to prove you wrong, and to show me just how much power he holds over me with this god damn blood bond that binds me to his ass . . . he humiliated me, he used me, and he took every single thing from me that he thought you might want."

Her voice broke as Grace stumbled over those last words, completely devastated by the way Haldir had belittled her in the hotel room earlier that afternoon, and Nuada looked like a ghost as the first tear rolled down her face. Eric Northman genuinely looked like he was going to fall down, while Logan was simply stunned. He didn't know what to say, or if anyone could say anything back to that. Pam had caught on to what Grace was saying, and even she became concerned, lowering the camcorder for the first time to step closer to Grace. "Honey are you alright?" she asked seriously, seeing the tears shining in Grace's eyes as she stared at Nuada.

"I will be fine," Grace answered in a haunted tone. Her eyes were locked on Nuada's face, desperate to be comforted in even the smallest way by the man she had spent the night before comforting herself, but he absolutely refused to look at her, leaving Grace to wonder if it was from shame or repulsion.

Logan and Pam were looking at her like she was a science project, but like Nuada, Eric Northman's eyes were trained on the floor, not wanting to believe what he just heard, and not wanting to see the pain he helped put on that human's face. It just made Grace feel that much worse, so burning with fury, she walked over and stood right in front of him, forcing him to look her in the face and see what he had done. "I have paid my dues to you, so do not ever call and ask me for a favor again," she growled up at him, taking in his almost imperceptible cringe as she turned away. She glanced at Logan, answering his question to her before she began her floral based torment. "Use the second one from the left. It's the prettiest," she told him turning for the door.

Grace intended to just walk out, but as she passed a final venomous glare over Nuada and found it met by nothing more than a flat emotionless expression and averted eyes, she stopped. Sliding so close to him her hair threatened to go up his nose, she reached up and jerked off that marchwarden pendant, shoving it into her pocket just before slapping her hands against Nuada's chest yet again. The very second she did, their auras bound, strange flickers of lighting flying across their skin as Grace took every vile memory of that afternoon and unceremoniously shoved it right into Nuada's brain.

The odd mixture of blue and white lightening dancing over two people was the strangest thing Logan and Pam had ever seen, but Eric remembered enough to clamp a hand on Nuada's shoulder before she finished, sucking it all in right along with his friend. It only took a second, but when she jerked her hands away and glared up at Nuada, they both knew everything. "You have fun with that . . . guardian," she spat in his face, her voice strange and strained as it echoed down the narrow hall, but the sound of her throwing the exit door nearly out of the frame soon drowned it out, and before either of them could collect themselves enough to go after her, Grace was gone.

*********************************************

It had been around ten that morning when Grace reluctantly left Nuada's side, and around noon when she collapsed into that luxurious hotel bed, tired and suffering from a terrible headache. The shower and clean clothes felt good, but her mind was still trying to comprehend the last days and she was thankful to have a few hours to rest before meeting Sookie for their shopping trip. Sleep had come as quickly as it had taken Nuada, pure exhaustion claiming her the instant her body met that soft mattress, but not even an hour passed before she was awakened, and it was not by the alarm clock she set before laying down.

Grace had been dreaming of making love with Nuada, wishing she were in his bed instead of that one, and when she was roused by a deeply muscled chest being pressed against hers, warm and slightly damp from a recent shower, she wondered if her devilish thoughts had drawn him to her side. The long hair hanging around the face was darkened by water, its color unclear in a room shrouded by drawn curtains, the hands flowing across her body causing her very blood to boil in a most familiar yet haunting way.

"I have missed you, Pinilyaer," Haldir whispered, his voice dreamy yet his actions almost predatory as he settled himself atop her, his breath hot in her ear. "Seeing you last night was most tempting, and I have found myself reconsidering my denial of the favor you asked of me."

"Haldir?" Grace answered uncertainly, her mind fogged by a lethal combination of no sleep and alcohol withdrawal, her body flushed, already burning with need from the experienced fingers drawing the fire from her veins.

"Mmmm . . . yes Pinilyaer, tis me . . . and I have come to barter with you . . . to fulfill your desires in exchange for your fulfillment of mine." Haldir's voice faded as he returned his mouth to the flesh of her neck, easing ever lower, gently biting and licking while his hand began to ease into the soft cream lace that was the only other thing covering her body besides that t-shirt.

His words brought instant lucidity, and Grace began to squirm beneath him. "Haldir, stop this!" Grace told him, her voice both breathless and a touch desperate against the stillness of the room. "Don't do this to me . . . don't do this to either one of us. I don't need the spell anymore . . .and I only asked because of Sookie . . . I needed it for the engagement party . . . but when we went to dinner . . ."

Her words faded when her shifting released the scant towel that clothed Haldir, his bulging shaft coming to now rest against her thigh, and he took full advantage of the distraction, cupping her with his hand and intentionally caressing her nub before gently sliding two fingers deep inside. Grace immediately stiffened against his touch, but Haldir did not relent, instead slowly stroking them within her while lowering his head to her breast, suckling at the peaks of her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt.

It was retched of him to ignore her protests, but in his defense, Haldir had truly suffered since seeing Grace at dinner that night. His very blood boiled relentlessly after seeing her in that damn black outfit, the very likes of which his eleven eyes had never seen. The way she moved, the way she laughed . . . Grace had consumed his mind since the moment she disappeared and when Haldir realized he had the perfect reason to pay her a visit, he found he could not resist . . . but Grace was certainly going to try.

The heat of that magnificent body pressing against her through that thin shirt was breathtaking, the hot, wet feel of his mouth as he worked her through it sheer torture, and with every rhythmic motion, Haldir's experienced hand now teased her relentlessly, but Grace wanted that hand and mouth to belong to someone else – she wanted it to belong to Nuada. Completely overwhelmed, her mind instantly called out to him, but unfortunately, Haldir was several steps ahead.

She had been sleeping soundly when he crept onto that bed, taking the marchwarden pendant into his fingers and caressing the heavy golden medallion as his eyes wandered it intently. Raising it to his lips for a delicate kiss, he returned it to her flesh. As requested, the simple blocking spell that would shield Grace and her thoughts from Sookie was complete. Unfortunately for Grace, Sookie was not the only one that spell blocked her from, and when Haldir woke her, Grace could have screamed for Nuada at the top of her lungs and he wouldn't have heard it.

Grace struggled for sanity and breath as she sank farther and farther into the burning fire that was consuming her, praying this was not real as she silently begged Nuada to come, but indeed it was. Her mind was screaming no, but her body was begging for more, already lost to the heat his simple touch could bring. Her once tense legs spread wantonly, her back arched almost involuntarily to bring his mouth closer, her hands began to creep into that shimmering curtain of hair.

"Your body betrays your mind, Pinilyaer," Haldir murmured, hearing the jumbled torrent of thoughts pouring from her mind, "You do not wish me to stop, and we shall not be disturbed, of that I have made certain, so free yourself and enjoy my touch as you once did."

"Haldir, I . . ." Grace began a final protest, but her words were drowned as Haldir's mouth quickly covered hers, his tongue forcing its way inside, plundering hers as he quickly grasped her hips and seated himself against her core, burying himself deep with a single thrust.

Grace cried out, the desperate groan that escaped her completely involuntary, and from the moment that guttural sound came against his ears, Haldir knew he had won. No matter how hard Grace fought against the bond they shared, he could make her respond, force her to relent, coerce her into submission - and he did. It was not rape, nor was it physically violent, but it was mentally humiliating in the worst possible way. In the deepest reaches of his soul Haldir knew Grace did not want to submit, knew her mind struggled to reach out for Nuada's help, yet he chose to continue. The feelings he possessed for Grace were not love - weren't even infatuation - it was need, pure overwhelming need, and it rendered the powerful marchwarden completely incapable of denying the furious passion that roared through his very soul from the moment their bodies were joined, months of pent up heat built over weeks of separation exploded, lust flowing through them like lava with every stroke.

Haldir fought to be gentle, determined not to be so rough as he was when he took her at the marchwarden camp, but the unearthly bliss of her flesh gripping him threatened to drive him insane. He began slowly, but with every thrust of his hips, he drove her into the mattress harder, a thin sheen of sweat soon coming to cover his pale skin, glistening against the traces of sunlight that snuck between the folds at the windows. "I . . . need . . . this," he hissed, his strokes becoming harder and more frantic, his hands clutching at Grace, his sapphire eyes wide, glazed over as some state of passionate delirium devoured him. Like a drug addict desperate for a hit, he began driving into her frantically, the sounds of their flesh slapping together echoing through the room, his grunts becoming louder and louder, like a feral animal after its prey.

His touch was wringing the heat from her very blood, every crimson molecule straining to be reunited with its maker, each plunge of his shaft causing her to tremble, his kisses stealing the tepid breath from her lungs as her hands clutched that beautiful platinum hair, twisting it as she fought against the same animalistic need that had taken him, but Haldir was gone. Completely lost to the fire of their bond, his entire body was now slick with sweat as he pumped into her, his cries becoming louder as he edged ever closer to completion. It was everything Grace's body wanted, everything her mind didn't, and it was so very, very wrong in every possible way – something her mind ultimately recognized as the first tickles of an orgasm began to tease at her.

Snapping back to reality, Grace managed to collect herself enough to end this, refusing to be pleasured in such a vile way. Taking everything she had, Grace tried to force him away, shoving at him with her mind and her hands, determined Haldir of Lórien would never again spill his seed within her flesh. It was a hard fight, blood bond versus fairy fire, literally mind versus matter, and neither one seemed to win as Grace managed little more than to toss them into a tangled heap on their sides. She had not gotten Haldir off of her, but thankfully they were no longer joined, and when he cried out seconds later, she felt the heat of his fluids spilling against her leg, staining the sheets beneath them.

As he lay beside her satisfied and sated, Grace fought back tears, still trembling as she spoke. "What have you done to me, Haldir? What has been done to us?"

"I do not know, Pinilyaer," he answered softly, his voice still raw with desire yet compassionate underneath. Grace had begun to cry, and he tried to comfort her, actually kissing her face as he cradled it in his hands, but she refused to look at him. "Do not be this way, Grace. We have done nothing this day we have not done before, or have you so soon forgotten? I am the one you wept for in the garden the morning you left Rivendell - the one you claimed love for as you clung to me on that balcony in the morning sun - and I am the one who tells you now, you would fare far better to share your flesh and feelings with me than that creature who stands guard over you." His voice had chilled as he spoke, ending as cold as the winter air that threw itself against the window outside.

Rising from the bed, he dragged the towel from the tangle of covers and replaced it round him, a cool gaze considering the tears now flowing from the human woman on the bed. "Your spell is granted, Grace. While I hold no appreciation for your continued association with those nightwalkers, I do hope that your cousin's party goes well, and should you need anything from me again, do not hesitate to ask . . . I shall gladly meet you this way again. Nan lû govaded vîn."

The words were enough to strike sheer terror in Grace's heart and she offered no response as Haldir leaned to place a final kiss against her forehead. Unaffected, the elf disappeared as quickly as he had appeared, but it had taken a good hour for Grace to stop shaking and force herself into the shower. She was completely destroyed by the power Haldir held over her, crying uncontrollably as she threw her clothes in the trash, wishing she had some way to burn them instead. Numbness had set in by the time she met Sookie that afternoon, and sheer fury had overtaken her by the time Grace pulled into Fangtasia that night.

Logan had actually been very lucky that night. If Grace had chosen to release her pent up anger for Haldir through violence instead of harmless humor, she would have easily killed him – a sentiment that was readily shared by both Amarande Nuada and Eric Northman after they learned the details of his visit.

*********************************************

There were only two hours of darkness remaining after Grace walked out of Fangtasia, yet Eric Northman never hesitated to accompany Nuada when he returned to that luxury apartment to change into his elven clothing, nor did he flinch when that blond haired warrior summoned two supernatural guardians from the very shadows of the room and spat out a string of orders in some incomprehensible language. Nuada had intended to go alone, but Eric Northman was damned and determined to accompany his friend, and had the vampire not commanded Logan to stay put and continue trying to call Grace and attempt to soothe her, that blond haired vampire would have come along too – hell, even Pam was itching for a go at that elf, and she didn't even know the details of what happened!

Eric assured his underlings he and Nuada could handle it, and indeed the intimidating pair would, and they made quite an entrance when they came stalking into the Marchwarden Camp of the Northern Wood at the head of an accompaniment of two dozen fairy guardians all dressed in full battle attire only a few moments later. Now when Eric Northman first saw a dozen guardians accompanied by a dozen elven warriors come marching into that tribunal, it had been one attention getting sight, but those fairy guardians had looked sociable compared to the group Nuada dredged up this night, and it thrilled Eric's very Viking soul. The vampire knew all about the strength of blood bonds, but there were ways to treat females and Haldir had broken them all. Uncontrollable lust was no excuse, and his gate was as firm as his closest friend's when they glided into that blood stained arena to interrupt Haldir of Lórien's archery lesson, his soft blue eyes glittering with just as much anger as the pair now reflecting brilliant flashes of vermillion.

Every elven marchwarden present snapped to attention, staring openly as the imposing group of creatures entered the circular training ring and assembled themselves around the perimeter, drawing the focus inward to the one who commanded them. While few had ever seen him, all wardens had heard of the creature known as Nuada, and knew the dark power he possessed. There was not one there save Glorfindel the Golden Warrior, that would ever dare to challenge him, and those fairies accompanying the leather clad warrior served only to reinforce his powerful presence.

Every eye was riveted, every ear trained with rapt attention as Nuada walked up to Haldir of Lórien, the silence broken by nothing more than the gentle breeze wafting through the trees and a few crickets chirping when that strangely accented voice sounded. Nuada did not speak loudly, his nefarious words for but one creature there, but everyone heard just the same, and the message was not one that could easily be forgotten. "You are a very brave creature, Haldir of Lórien, to ignore my warning and defile the flesh of the human I stand guardian over, but heed my words, mellon nín . . . should your blood not flow through her veins, at this very moment it would flow beneath my feet as it poured from your lifeless flesh . . . but if you wish to challenge me, then here I stand. Death is a friend to me, and while I will not share it with you, there are many ways to make a creature suffer while keeping them alive." Nuada's voice was just as low, evil and putrid with hatred as it had been in that kitchen when he uttered a similar warning to Grace, and he was so angry the very air around him was vibrating.

Rumil and Orophin carefully eased up behind Haldir, but he steadied them with the slightest motion from his hand. This was not their fight, and he did not intend to involve them. Instead, Haldir met Nuada's glare with a look of complete disdain, seeming as unimpressed with that mercenary as if he were watching a tree grow. "It is you who are the brave creature . . . to come into my very own camp and threaten me," Haldir answered coolly, but his eyes flamed with warning, promising Nuada if he'd come for a fight, he'd certainly found it. "And I fear your warnings were forgotten to me, mellon nín, drowned out by Grace's cries of pleasure as they matched my own."

The taunt was the worst possible choice given what Amarande Nuada had endured over the past several days, and the mercenary flushed pink with fury, his war blade instantly in his hand as he lunged for Haldir, intending to carve that smug look off his face, and had Eric Northman not caught him mid-air, Haldir's blood would have indeed been flowing on that ground. "You can't," Eric hissed in warning, corralling him back. "Remember the blood!"

"Nachuithron!" Nuada spat, his voice dripped with poisonous fury as he flipped that blade in his hand, throwing flashes of ominous silver as he retched out his next words. "How dare you proclaim protection to Erulissë through that talisman around her neck then boast of using her for your physical amusement! Blood or no blood, should so much as your breath find its way against her flesh again, this blade will find its way through your heart! Heniach nin? Do you understand me? And you would bode well to throw yourself on the mercy of your Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel, for I know if Lord Niall learns of this, your life will hold less value to him that it now does to me."

"I do not creep through the shadows such as you, nor do I need to beg mercy from my Lord and Lady," Haldir hissed back, completely unafraid. "Lord Niall may very well learn of my actions, and I will do nothing more than remind him of his own. Was his lure of Grace to that putrid infestation of blood sucking death that led to her injuries and my saving her, so if he requires an excuse for my actions, he need only turn to this retched bond that binds us. I can control it no more than she!"

"Well you better learn to control it and watch your fucking mouth, or the next time you bring your sorry ass to my world, you're gonna find out all about putrid blood sucking death firsthand," Eric Northman ground out, baring his fangs and drawing startled gasps from around the arena. The wardens had never seen such a creature, and quickly frankly, it shared the shit out of them.

Glimpsing those long, shimmering teeth, Haldir suddenly realized the gravity of this situation.   
While there was a bow in his hand and arrows within easy reach, without assistance, he could never simultaneously fall two creatures as formidable as Nuada and Eric before they reached him, and his men were honorable. No marchwarden would ever insert themselves into a private quarrel where a direct challenge had been leveled, so he was on his own at that very moment, and Haldir of Lórien knew if he so much as twitched, Nuada would gut him like a fish but only if Eric Northman did not rip his throat out first. It was an unenviable position, but one that changed instantly when Rumil and Orophin ignored his command and came to stand directly beside him, bows at the ready – one wooden arrow pointed directly at Eric's heart, the other at Nuada's head. Other marchwardens might not get involved in this, but brothers certainly would!

Three on two leveled the playing field dramatically, and had Glorfindel himself not suddenly burst into their midst to mediate this rapidly deteriorating situation, a slaughter may very well have taken place. "Enough, mellyn nín!" the warrior proclaimed, brandishing his sword to everyone present, his very flesh emanating an odd inner glow, causing the renowned elf to appear almost ethereal in the flickering firelight. "Haldir, you would do well to take the nightwalker's advice and remain silent, while you Nuada, have no place here. You have been heard, so return to the Pinilyaer and see to her care. The sooner the horrid workings of this bond are broken the better, but until then know that on my life there will be no repeat of these events."

Haldir opened his mouth to speak, but one glare from those thunderous grey eyes was enough to close it again, and he wisely kept it that way. His blue eyes were so darkened by anger they shown nearly black, but Haldir obediently turned and walked away, still flanked on either side by his brothers.

Nuada and Eric watched him go with open contempt, but when Glorfindel bid them a very pointed farewell, they also departed, the entire group disappearing to a threatening clap of thunder loud enough to shake drifts of leaves from the golden mallorn trees, warning them all of things to come if Nuada's warning was ignored again. Glorfindel quickly headed to the General's talan intending to give Haldir a warrior to warrior ass chewing the likes of which that elf had never endured, while Nuada returned Eric directly to his home, outrunning the sun and ensuring his friends safety. The two exchanged no words – none were needed – then Nuada quickly popped himself away.

The fairy guardians watching the hotel had been alerted to the situation, Nuada realizing too late that their polite surveillance of Grace's room had offered no protection against supernatural visitors of the elven variety. It infuriated him beyond comprehension, and he was actually relieved to receive word that Grace was no longer there. She'd collected her things, then quickly departed, unaware that she was being followed. Kelen had dutifully tracked her across Shreveport to her own home of all places, and she was at that very moment inside the little white house on the outskirts of town.

Nuada immediately seeped into the shadows, reappearing personally in a dark corner of the den, no more than a dark vapor as he silently dismissed Kelen from his protection position outside, and slipped through the house in search of the human he now knew he loved. The guardian would forever regret his actions of the past days, but from this moment forward, he could assure Laurel Grace that there would be no more mistakes as to her care, yet he could only wonder how to repair these things as he settled in perfect concealment, devastated by what he found.

The sun was just beginning to peek into the sky, and Grace was settling her tired and used body down to rest on a cold, uncomfortable air mattress she'd purchased from the local superstore on the way over. It was thrown on the floor in a pile of sheetrock dust, and tears were pouring down her face as she lay in the stillness, thankful for the warm heat pouring from the floor vent beside her. The walls were in a state of complete disrepair, but everything in the house functioned perfectly, and Grace knew she could easily stay here for a few days, at least until this party was over, then decide where she went from here.

That marchwarden's pendant was clutched in her hand, the haunted grey eyes staring at it reflecting the current state of shock that held her. Grace had no idea that Nuada was already there, and she was contemplating dropping it, wondering if he would come to comfort her, or if he would stay away, repulsed by what she had done – or rather what had been done to her. And Lord knows Grace could have used Nuada's comfort, because as she lay there, her mind could not forget that the blocking spell on that pendant did not apply to Haldir of Lórien. That damn elf could return to her at any time, day or night, and he could do to her the very same thing again he did earlier that day . . . well, he could try.

Wiping the tears from her face, Grace kept the pendant in her hand and huddled into a little ball, clutching her favorite quilt she'd retrieved from the garage, determined to sleep. She did not want to know the pain of Nuada not coming to her if she dropped that medallion, but there was certainly one thing that she did know - no matter how deep that blood bond might run, if Haldir of Lórien ever forced himself on her physically or mentally again, she would kill that marchwarden on sight.

Thankfully, sleep took her not long after Grace lay down, and the moment it did, Nuada stepped from the shadows, on his knees beside her in an instant. Stroking her forehead, he murmured the words of an elven sleeping spell under his breath even as he slipped the medallion from her hand, their auras binding instantly. Easing beside her, he carefully cradled her against him, continuing to stroke her lovingly as the delicate white flames of his aura comforted her very soul. As softly as if it were the brush of a butterfly's wing, he slipped into her mind, yet again taking a parcel of vile and putrid memories and neatly packaging them up and tucking them far into the depths of her mind where they would no longer torment her so, easing the raging pain of Haldir's visit to little more than a vague twinge.

He held her for hours on end, watching over her throughout the day and on through the night, making sure she got the rest she needed to recover, all the while continuing to soothe her mind, snatching away every dark thought and dream as it appeared. Nuada knew Grace did not mean the hateful things she'd spat at him earlier – quite to the contrary – the compassion and caring she had shown him on the floor of that study was genuine and offered from her heart, which Nuada was beginning to realize belonged to him in the very same way his belonged to her.

The powerful mercenary was gone when Grace finally woke, returned to the shadows to silently watch and protect, yet somehow deep inside, she knew he had been there. The intoxicating scent of leather and spices lingered against her quilt, her tortured mind was eased, and that marchwarden pendant was laying on the floor in the dust, silently telling her everything Nuada wanted to without saying a word – because if Haldir of Lórien ever touched her again, that was exactly what he would be reduced to - nothing more than the lingering dust of a dead man.


	28. Surprise Party

Chapter 28 – Surprise Party

Eric Northman prayed Grace would recover from her recent traumas and attend his Christmas Party at Fangtasia, and indeed she did. A true friend to her cousin if she was nothing else, Grace would never let Sookie down, and just as they had discussed during their shopping trip to the mall, Grace was pulling down Hummingbird Lane at noon exactly, coming to take her cousin to spend the day at the spa on December twenty-third. Grace had not spoken to anyone during the past three days, but Nuada had been carefully watching and dutifully reporting, so Sookie knew her cousin had been holed up at her new house in Shreveport. She had left only once – to retrieve the golden puzzle box from the apartment – and that alone had been enough to tell them all that she was fighting to heal, and in time she would indeed be alright.

It was to Sookie's utmost relief that Grace seemed perfectly settled when she picked her up, and the concerned blond silently thanked Nuada from the bottom of her heart as they began chatting of nothing while making the drive back to Shreveport. The blocking spell was firmly in place, so Sookie could read nothing from her, and Grace made it clear by ignoring Sookie's gentle probes that she did not intend to share, so Sookie wisely did not continue, content just to see Grace smiling as she sipped a Diet Dr. Pepper and played with the radio.

Soon enough they arrived, and it was fun and games as always when the two girls giggled themselves through getting made over at the spa. This was their day and they enjoyed it completely, plucking that huge shopping bag full of beautiful new clothes from the back of the Cadillac, then heading up to the luxury hotel suite arm in arm for a relaxed room service meal. They had a wonderful time, ordering four different desserts and washing them down with drinks from the bar, laughing as they watched cartoons and took turns pushing each other out onto the freezing balcony dressed only in towels before finally relenting and getting dressed for the party.

They'd laughed until their sides hurt by the time Sookie finally stepped in front of Grace for a once over, and when Grace offered her cousin a compliment, she meant it. "You look fantastic, Sook," she told her, appreciating the glow of pure satisfaction radiating from Sookie as she twirled around, looking every inch a beauty queen in the stunning clothes Grace bought for her special night.

The dress fit Sookie as if it were created specifically for her. An odd shade of teal blue with an Empire-waist, the georgette creation was beaded with hundreds of tiny silvery sparkles all around a shirred V-neck, before falling into a full softly gathered skirt. It made Sookie look astonishing, and the new high heeled silver t-strap shoes and teal teardrop earrings finished her look to perfection. She'd had her hair put up at the salon that afternoon, beautiful soft curls framing her face, skin glowing under the simple makeup. If there had ever been a woman worthy of getting engaged that night, Sookie Stackhouse was certainly it.

"You don't look too bad yourself, sweetie," Sookie told Grace, and her compliment was heartfelt as well. Grace blushed, turning to the mirror, shocked by the image staring back at her. The short dark hair was the same as always, but the smoky eye makeup and deeper lips were something a little different. The top was a sequined mesh tank style top done in a tunic length with literally thousands of big round iridescent beads dangling from it. It was crimson red, but the iridescent coating made those beads shine with every color of the rainbow, and Grace felt like a Christmas tree as she turned this way and that, watching it shimmer and glitter under the bright hotel lights. The salesperson had paired it with a pair of stunning wide-leg goucho style pants made of lustrous grey sharkskin denim and high heeled black leather cap toe boots. It took a thin person to carry it off, but since Grace was on the smaller side it suited her perfectly.

"Well, I supposed we should go then," Grace said, collecting her purse, then heading out the door. The cousins gathered more than a few appreciative looks as they exited the hotel, and Grace prayed this night would go as planned. She was still praying when she pulled into the back lot of Fangtasia some twenty minutes later. Everyone was obviously already there, the Corvette, Jaguar and Escalade parked in a neat little row. Taking a deep breath, Grace eased from the warm leather truck seat. This was gonna be one hell of a night!

When they entered the main bar of Fangtasia, both cousins felt like they'd just stepped into some fairy wonderland. Logan had outdone himself, and it sure as hell didn't look like a funeral home. Those stunning arrangements were placed on each table and around the stage, and in combination with the new candles and thousands of red and white balloons floating against the ceiling, it was simply amazing. Sookie was stunned, wondering what all the fuss was about, and she really started worrying when she laid eyes on Eric.

Seemed the girls, weren't the only ones who went all out that night, because when Eric Northman crossed that floor to greet them, he was wearing the most magnificent black suit Grace thought she had ever seen. Right down to the perfect black tie, that vampire looked fantastic. Looking from one to the other, it was hard to tell which one was more impressed with the other – Sookie or Eric, and Grace knew from the vampire's expression, he was extremely pleased with her cousin and the way she looked.

"You ladies look magnificent this evening," Eric told them smoothly, leaning to place a gentle kiss on Sookie's cheek. He was simply glowing, and Grace knew he was as happy as he'd ever been.

It didn't take long to figure out where the others were, and that was one fine looking group of men as well. Logan was also wearing a suit, the fabric some unusual black with the deepest green tint imaginable and in combination with that long blond hair he looked great. Alcide Hearveax looked right nice himself, the simple cream dress shirt and khaki pants suited him perfectly. Nuada was standing with them, and he looked so good Grace nearly stopped breathing. Oh, he had on the usual black pants and black shirt, but he'd kicked them up a notch and added yet another black leather blazer while that corn silk hair was just glowing under those soft lights. His eyes were on fire as he looked across that floor at Grace, and she wondered what on earth she would say to him tonight.

Refusing to upset herself, Grace forced a simple smile and dutifully followed Eric and Sookie across that dance floor. Eric was looking out for Grace tonight, and she hadn't taken three steps before Pam fell in beside her. That pretty blond vamp had her back tonight, and Grace was most thankful. Pam was looking quite beautiful herself in a soft green fitted suit that fit her luscious curves perfectly, and the little flower pin she'd added on the collar was the finishing touch. "Your outfit rocks." She told Grace quietly, and Grace smiled at her new friend.

"Thanks. Borrow it sometime." Pam really smiled when Grace told her that, and Grace was very happy she was by her side.

Joining the others, Grace kept herself carefully disconnected, gluing herself to Pam as she politely told everyone good evening. Thankfully, it seemed everyone was much too interested in Sookie and Eric to bother with her, and it wasn't long before she managed to slip away to the far side of the bar for a drink. God knows, she needed one! Poor Eric had been a bundle of nerves since he woke up, and Nuada was unable to leave his friend's side for even a moment, so Grace knew she was safe, at least for the moment. Thankfully, the band started up about that time and soon that place was hopping just as it normally would be.

Soon over a hour had passed, and while Grace had politely refused dance invitations from both Logan and Alcide, she was hard pressed to refuse Eric when he asked for a moment of her time. Nuada had carefully captured Sookie's attention, and watched intently as Eric led her to his office. Grace was in no mood, but she went along. This was after all, his night.

"Please come inside. I have something to show you Grace," Eric told her quietly, as he shut the door behind her.

Dutifully sliding into one of the office chairs, Grace watched in curiosity as the ancient vampire pulled a small black box from his pocket, and carefully flipped it open, revealing the most stunning diamond engagement ring Grace had ever seen . . . even in a magazine. "Please tell me if Sookie will like this."

Grace knew Eric had money, but damn – that group of rocks had to cost at least as much as her truck did! Considering the house he was building for her, Grace realized the ring was actually par for the course . . . either Eric Northman just had more money than he knew what to do with, or he really, really loved her cousin a LOT.

Eric was obviously anxious to be petted on the head and told he did a good job, so Grace obliged, fawning over that nearly flawless 2.5 carat oval center stone with its dozens of accompanying little brilliant friends, all peeking out from the most intricate carvings of teensy little flowers Grace had ever seen. It was stunning, right down to the "With all my love, Eric" that sappy vamp had engraved inside.

"You did good, dead man," Grace told him sincerely, easing her eyes from the ring up to meet his soft blue gaze.

"How was the trip to the spa?" Eric asked politely. "You both certainly look lovely tonight."

"We had a really nice time, Eric. I think Sookie enjoyed it, and I know she looks fantastic." Grace told him seriously. "You don't look too bad yourself! And I know ya'll are going to be very happy together."

Eric got all wistful looking when she said that, and Grace realized he was having a tough time with this tonight. Seemed there was some emotion hidden under that hard exterior after all. Slipping from her chair, she put a gentle hand on his arm. "You'll be fine Eric. If you breathed, I'd tell you to take a few deep ones, but you don't." Grace was smiling, teasing him to ease his mind, and Eric appreciated it.

"How are you Grace?" he asked her seriously, his expression suddenly much different as he ran his eyes over her.

"I'm fine," Grace answered firmly. "And I didn't come in here to talk about me. This is your night and I'm not going to be a distraction. Now, when are you going to do this?"

Glancing at his watch, Eric suddenly seemed very nervous again, actually pacing a few steps. Knowing he was terrified, Grace took his arm and led that gorgeous vampire toward the door. There's just no time like the present.

When Grace and Eric exited the hallway, Nuada saw them and quickly steered Sookie toward the center of the stage as well. The band was well informed, and in just a moment, they had killed the music, the lead singer telling everyone to hush and listen up. This was a most important occasion they were all gathered there for that night!

Sookie suddenly looked terrified, turning a startled expression to Nuada as he gently placed her hand in Eric's and smiled softly. Eric was honestly trembling and Grace nearly had to shove him that last step. She was smiling herself as Eric took Sookie's hand in his, and when he dropped to one knee, Sookie's hand flew over her mouth. That blond waitress was shocked to the pits of her soul, and Grace hoped her cousin didn't pass right out.

"I had never known true love," Eric Northman said firmly, "until I met you." His eyes were riveted on Sookie's and when that tiny little bloody tear began to run down his cheek, even Grace choked up. "Sookie Stackhouse, I promise to love you for the rest of my life, and I ask you for the honor of your hand in marriage. Would you please be my wife?" Sookie was stunned, and it took her a second to digest it all. She was shaking like a leaf when she said yes, and she literally threw herself into Eric's arms. He slowly picked himself up off the floor and crushed her against him, kissing her for what seemed like forever before he actually remembered about the ring.

Reaching into his pocket he took out the little black box, and Sookie nearly fainted when he opened it. "Oh my god . . ." she whispered as he slipped it on her finger, and then she started laughing and crying and squealing all at once. It was a perfect moment, and soon they were overrun by people offering their congratulations.

Knowing her work was done, Grace thankfully eased herself away, going outside for a quiet moment and some cold air. It was a good thirty minutes before she made her way back inside, and Pam was thrilled to finally find her again. "I have looked everywhere for you! They are going to cut this cake, and Sookie was waiting on you!"

Heading for the far corner, Grace found that Logan had done as well on the cake as he did on the decorations. It was a breathtaking confection of white icing and red poinsettias with the word "congratulations" wrapping around it in graceful script. Seeing her cousin for the first time since all this happened, Sookie launched herself at Grace, crushing her in a bear hug then trembling with excitement as she showed her the ring.

Putting on her brightest smile, Grace gushed for her cousin. She was genuinely happy for her, this just wasn't her thing . . . if anyone ever asked her to marry them, she wanted it to be private, on a secluded beach somewhere, alone. Didn't matter, this wasn't about her, and Grace went along just as she was supposed to, watching in delight as they cut that cake then passed over the sweets sharing duties to Logan.

Grace had been very careful to avoid Nuada that night, although she knew his eyes had been on her since she first walked through the door. Hoping she'd done enough to quietly slip away without ever talking to him, Grace was very pleased when the band cranked up again, offering her the much needed distraction for a quick getaway. Nearly ready to make a run for it, her thoughts were shattered by a strange comment from Pam.

"I could eat off that for an entire year," the attractive blond vampire drawled out sarcastically, and Grace turned to see who she was referring to.

"Well slap my ass and call me stupid!" she exclaimed loudly, and everyone turned to see what Grace was referring to. Stunned, they watched Grace go tearing through that bar like a woman possessed to launch herself at the man who just recently walked through the front door. "Trey Lockhardt! I do not believe you are standing here!"

"Couldn't stay away sugar," he answered her with a huge grin. "You know I'd never let Christmas come without seeing my favorite girl." Grabbing Grace in a huge hug, he put the softest little kiss on her cheek, and Grace blushed fire engine red. Trey was simply adorable, and she was stunned to see him standing there!

Pam soon eased up beside Grace in stunned disbelief, not believing this was the man Grace had been flirting with so desperately on the telephone. "This is the famous Trey?" she asked uncertainly, running her eyes from his head to his toes and back again.

"The one and only!" The man answered firmly, his voice rough but yet gentle. "And who might you be, you lovely little southern thing?" Trey flirted wildly with any pretty woman who came near, and Pam just ate it up.

Smiling a broad, beautiful smile, she actually leaned into that huge arm as it reached to gently squeeze her against him. "I'm Pam," she told him brightly, and Trey just beamed.

"Well, it is certainly my pleasure to meet you beautiful," he told her with a wink. "Ya'll got anything to drink in this place?"

Pam simply cooed at him that time, and began to lead Trey toward the bar. That man was in hog heaven, Grace on one arm and Pam on the other, and across the dance floor Eric, Nuada, Logan and Sookie stared in stunned disbelief. All Sookie heard the past few days from Eric was about Trey, Trey, Trey . . . some man Grace talked to on the phone . . . her cousin obviously had a boyfriend, she was just hiding it, he was positive! Grace was going to leave, sneak away with this strange man . . . how could Grace do such a thing? And poor Nuada, he was devastated, and it was all Grace's fault.

"That's Trey?" Logan whispered uncertainly, and Nuada was thinking the same exact thing. His ass had been on fire ever since he heard Grace on that phone call, and now he felt like a complete ass, and so he should have.

"It would seem so!" Sookie blurted out angrily, slapping her hands on her hips. "Now don't you ALL feel stupid!" She turned to glare at Nuada in particular. "Some people need to learn to give Grace a little credit, don't they?" She didn't even give that stunned man a chance to answer, just stalked away to go join her cousin and meet this new friend of hers.

"Well, I'll be damned," Eric told Nuada softly as he watched his new fiancée walk away. "Sookie was right."

Sliding right into the midst of them, Sookie was quickly greeted as warmly as the others as Trey immediately came to his feet for a sweet southern greeting. "Damn another good looking one! Do all the women in Louisiana look like ya'll? Cause if they do, I'm moving!" he told her with a hearty laugh, and Sookie knew instantly why Grace loved this man so much. He was just precious!

"I'm Sookie Stackhouse, Grace's cousin." Sookie told him firmly, reaching to shake his hand. Trey just pushed it out of the way and crushed her in a huge hug just like the others.

"Trey Lockhardt," he answered, "Owner of Carolina Customs. I'm the lucky man who designed Grace's Escalade."

Well that sure as hell explained a lot, and Sookie turned to glare over her shoulder at Eric and Nuada who'd now eased over to join them. Trey was just fixing to climb back onto his bar stool, but seeing the newcomers, he didn't. A true southern gentleman, Trey immediately stepped forward to shake Eric's hand. Vampires don't shake hands, but that glare from Sookie told Eric he better shake that man's hand if he wanted to live, so he did. "Eric Northman. Welcome to my club." He told him graciously, and Trey smiled in return, his face wrinkling till he looked like Santa Clause.

"Trey Lockhardt – Carolina Customs. Pleased to meet you." Trey was the most jovial thing you'd ever meet, and shook Eric's hand as thoroughly as it ever could have been. "This sweet little thing beside me told me your party tonight was more important than mine, so she made me come all the way to Louisiana to see her!" He told Eric with a huge smile before turning the most gentle gaze ever to Grace. "Grace is my little sweetheart. Couldn't let Christmas go by without seeing her."

Grace just blushed and shook her head at him. "You're ridiculous!" she told him with a laugh, pushing against his shoulder. Laughing in return, Trey turned toward Nuada. He was watching all this in complete amazement, stunned now that he could see who Trey actually was.

"And how are you young feller?" he asked curiously, and Grace nearly died laughing. Sookie did too, and they both looked at Nuada, wondering how he would handle that question. Nuada had to be at least a few thousand years old.

"Quite well," he answered graciously. "So nice to meet you Mr. Lockhardt."

Trey considered him with narrowed eyes, catching the accent, but unable to place it. "You're not from around here are you?"

Nuada's reply was smoother than silk, tempered by centuries of practice. "No sir, I'm afraid not. Although I have been enjoying Louisiana immensely." Two glittering green eyes were locked on Grace when he said that, causing her to nearly choke on that drink, but thankfully Trey was completely unaware, reaching to shake Nuada's hand as enthusiastically as he had Eric's.

"Nice to meet you!" he told him loudly. "Now, ya'll got to excuse me. I'm needing a beer in the worst possible way!"

Turning back to his bar stool, the men just stared in amazement as Trey grabbed a beer and proceeding to charm the pants off Pam and Sookie while Grace stood by his side smiling and laughing like she hadn't since they met her. If two powerful supernatural creatures ever needed to be knocked off their high horses, it had just happened – and it happened thanks to yet another supernatural creature, because it was Niall Brigant's silent subliminal meddling that brought Trey to Shreveport. The fairy lord knew what happened to Grace, and he knew the presence of her friend would help, so he'd offered an unknown hand up to his beloved great-grandchild, hoping it would help – and indeed it did.

Bless Trey's big ole heart, the man had a pure audience by the time he finally excused himself for a trip to the men's room, and Pam hated to see him leave, even for a few minutes. Sookie took the opportunity to head back to Eric, and Grace slid onto his seat, still warm from the wide load it had been caressed by for the past hour. "Well, I'm just stunned," Pam told her seriously, turning a blank expression toward Grace. "If you'd showed me a picture of that man and told me that was who you were talking to on the phone, I'd have called you a liar."

Grace just laughed. You had to see Trey in person to appreciate him. He was all of five foot eight inches, and he was as big around as he was tall, the skin of his face creased into permanent laugh lines and leathered from years and years of working outside under the sun. His hands were rough, but his voice was gentle, and you just couldn't help but want to squeeze those plump little cheeks! Short white hair was cropped carefully, the perfectly trimmed white moustache and goatee finishing off his appearance. Trey was pure granddaddy biker dude perfection, from that little earring glittering in his ear right down to that heavy silver chain hanging from his pocket . . . and it really did have a wallet on the end of it! A die hard Harley Davidson dude from his black t-shirt to his cowboy boots, Trey was all man, but the sweetest one of them all.

When he returned from his bathroom break, the music had slowed and while he intended to ask Grace to dance, Pam was already there, more than anxious to feel those big warm arms around her. Trey willingly obliged, and soon was happily standing with his face buried in her bosom on that dance floor.

Smiling at the strange image, Grace soon found herself joined by Alcide Herveaux. "Evening Grace. You're looking lovely as always." His smile was genuine, and Grace knew that handsome werewolf would love to get to know her a little better at some point, but that was never gonna happen.

"Evening, Alcide," she answered politely. "How are things your way?"

Alcide launched into a long speech about Eric's house, all the work his company had going on, yadda, yadda, yadda. Grace listened politely, knowing what he wanted before he ever got around to asking it. "I would love for you to reconsider working with me Grace," that gruff voice told her sincerely. "We could certainly use your help."

Thinking that over, Grace shocked him to no end. "Alright Alcide, I believe I will. Let me get moved into my new house, and then I'll give you a call. We'll see what we can work out." Those were some of the best words that werewolf ever heard, and he was smiling like a Cheshire cat when he finally walked away. Pleased she'd made someone's night, Grace sat there people watching to pass the time. There was nothing special to see, but she didn't miss it when that damn annoying vampire launched herself at Nuada again. He didn't even crack a smile as he told her to get lost, and Grace wondered if it was because he genuinely wasn't interested, or if it was simply because he knew she was there to watch.

Soon enough Trey returned, and many more laughs and beer were traded before the music slowed again. This time, Trey was determined, and soon found himself on the floor with Grace. Sookie and Eric were beside them, and they couldn't help but stare at the odd sight of that fat little grey haired man cradling Grace in his arms like a huge teddy bear. Grace was delighted to be there, smiling and giggling as he entertained her with yet another story about the shop and his little group of workers. To hear him tell it, there was never a dull moment and Trey was never short of wonderful stories to share. Suddenly, he leaned in close and whispered in Grace's ear. "You serious about that feller?"

Leaning away from him, Grace looked at her friend curiously. "What fellow?" she asked in an odd tone, her frown creasing against narrowed grey eyes.

"That nice looking blond one who's been making over you all night. He's fixing to ask you to dance." Trey winked at her, then looked over her shoulder.

Nuada was indeed standing right there, gracious and polite as always. "Might I interrupt?" he asked with a slight smile. Trey smiled broadly in return, handing Grace right over.

"You be nice to my girl, you hear?" He threatened with a smile, then laughed the whole way off the dance floor. Pam was anxiously waiting for him, and in under a minute they were sacked up together at the bar yet again.

Grace was mildly terrified as Nuada gently pulled her into his arms, immediately intoxicated by the very smell of leather and spices that somehow always seemed to emanate from him. The leather scent was much stronger tonight because of that lambskin sports coat, and good god he looked good! "Good evening, Erulissë," he told her softly, those emerald eyes intent as he stared down at her.

Unable to even speak, Grace simply moved along with him as she struggled to get her heartbeat under control. Her hands were on his shoulders, and that long blond hair was just laying across her fingers, daring her to bury them in it as she fought desperately to get control of her emotions.

"You look very beautiful tonight," Nuada whispered softly, his mouth right at her ear, that warm breath tracing against her skin as he spoke. "I have missed you, Lirimaer."

He had Grace cradled close against him, one hand at the small of her back, one at her waist as they slowly moved together, and Grace honestly wondered if she would survive. "I think tonight went very well," Grace said carefully, wanting to steer this conversation away from herself, and onto anything else possible.

"Agreed," Nuada answered smoothly. "Everything looks beautiful, and it is so nice to see two people so pleased with one another." His voice sounded odd when he said that, and his eyes clouded slightly as they studied her. "There is another person here who has also been quite pleased tonight, and I would very much like to continue to see her that way . . . so perhaps you might share with me how I could make that happen, Erulissë. What might I do to make you happy, A'maelamin?"

Well that was one loaded damn question, and thank god the music changed at that very moment, and Grace didn't have to answer it. She was out of his arms in a second, nearly bolting for the comfort and safety of Trey and that bar. Grace didn't move from his side the rest of the night, not even looking up once until it got extremely late.

Poor Pam looked as disappointed as a girl could when Trey pulled himself off that stool and announced he had to leave. The two girls walked him out to that gigantic Ford F-250 king cab he drove, and Pam could only stare in speechless amazement. Logan was actually out front himself, and he quickly came over to be introduced. Grace could only laugh. Who'd have thought her friend could capture the attention of a bunch of vampires so thoroughly? He chatted with Logan for a few minutes, assuring him he'd be around for a few days – sure he'd talk to him about his truck - then he gave Pam the biggest hug of her life. That blond vampire couldn't help herself and planted a kiss on his lips before poor Trey even realized it was coming. Smiling she walked away, Pam was so demure as she glanced back over her shoulder at him, and Grace thought she'd die with laughter. That was just plain damn funny.

Left on their own for the first time all night, Trey gave Grace her own huge hug. "Call me in the morning sweetheart. I really do plan to stay for a few days if that alright with you. I couldn't stand the idea of you being alone for the holidays." His kind words brought tears to her eyes, and she knew if no one else on earth ever cared for her, Trey Lockhardt did.

Leaning to place her own gentle kiss on his cheek, Grace promised to call him tomorrow, then watched in amazement as he climbed up into that enormous truck. If people thought hers was obnoxious, it paled in comparison to that thing! Firing up the loud engine, he rolled that black window down and winked at her. "Harley trailer's at the hotel. We ride tomorrow!"

Shaking her head, Grace was still grinning when she headed back inside. She was ready to leave herself, and intended to find Sookie and bolt, but Logan fell into step beside her, and Grace quickly found herself answering a million and one questions about her friend. It was beginning to wear on her by the time they came to stand in front of Eric and Sookie, and Grace passed the vamp a warning look as she leaned to hug her cousin. "Congratulations Sook. I love ya, and I know ya'll are gonna be very happy together." Turning to Eric, Grace gave him a quick little hug too. "Congratulations, dead man. You did good." He was still beaming, and Grace knew Eric Northman was one happy vampire. It was wonderful to see both of them so happy, and Grace knew they were truly in love with one another.

Determined to leave, but knowing that Logan was staring at her intently, Grace decided she best finish up with him for the night as well. "Logan, you did a beautiful job tonight. Everything looked fantastic, and that cake was utterly sinful," Grace told him pleasantly, then she stepped closer and grew serious. "Sorry I jerked you around with the plants . . . I wasn't having a very good night, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Her expression had fallen, and Logan knew from the obvious discomfort in her eyes Grace was telling the truth. "No apology necessary, Grace. I'm just pleased to see you looking so well this evening." Logan's told her sincerely, leaning to give her an impromptu hug and a gentle kiss on her cheek. "You can still call me if you need anything," he whispered in her ear, his green eyes intent as he raised himself from her.

"Thanks," Grace told him softly. "Call me!" she called out to Sookie, heading for the rear door.   
Grace was so outta there, or so she thought, until her eyes found Nuada standing beside her truck. He was standing in the cold December air just staring at her truck, and Grace wondered what on earth he was looking at. Knowing she avoided a conversation with him earlier, Grace knew there was no chance of avoiding one now, so she reluctantly walked up beside him.

"Mr. Lockhardt does remarkable work," Nuada told her, carefully considering the intricate handiwork that had gone into that custom front grill on her Escalade.

Grace couldn't help but smile in return. Yes, Trey Lockhardt did some amazing things to metal, unbelievable things that you just had to see to appreciate.

Turning away from the truck to focus his attentions on her, Nuada's face softened. "You miss your friends."

It was more statement than question, and Grace frowned. Nuada knew she did. "I'm fine," she told him firmly, stepping toward the door of her truck.

Nuada stopped her before Grace took three steps. Those burning green eyes were as intense as they'd ever been as he stared down at her. "You are not fine, Erulissë," he told her softly. "You have been through terrible things these past days, yet you trust no one enough to speak with them – not even Sookie – not even me. You are lonely and unhappy, and you do not feel safe. Tell me that is not how you feel."

Crossing her arms in front of her, Grace let her big grey eyes come up to meet his, knowing there were unshed tears shining in them. "I will be fine," she repeated flatly. There was a deep sadness in her voice accompanied by a touch of sarcasm, blatant indicators telling Nuada that he was absolutely correct in his conclusions about Grace and her frame of mind.

The fire in those emerald depths dimmed as Nuada looked down at her, sad pools of emotion telling her how unhappy it made her guardian to see her this way. "Please come home, Erulissë," he insisted. "You never have to be alone. I have told you that many times, and there is nothing you cannot speak to me about . . . nothing." His voice was gentle, pleading with her as he reached to brush a gentle hand against her cheek, imploring her to accept.

"There's nothing to tell that you don't already know, and we both know what will happen if I do," Grace said, her expression desperate as she looked up at Nuada, silently begging him to listen to her words, to please not push her to comply. "It might not be the first night, might not be the second, but it'll happen and I just don't know if I can handle sleeping with you again right now . . . Nuada, I want to be there with you, I swear I do, but you still won't tell me what happened between us, and now all this with Haldir . . . it's just too much at one time. Can you please try to understand?"

The words tore Nuada apart, reminding the guardian that he had failed to protect her, and that he had harmed her as well. His face clouded, and Nuada looked as if he'd aged fifteen years when he tilted that beautiful head to look at Grace, gorgeous blond hair falling across that black leather just shimmering under the soft lights. "Erulissë, I understand better than you will ever know, so those are not reasons to stay away," he told her firmly, reaching to gently tip her chin with his fingers, commanding her to meet his gaze. "Never compare me to that marchwarden, A'maelamin, and never believe what others have told you of me. There are many things left to be said between us, but hear the truth from me now as I stand here. I stay with you because I wish to, Erulissë, and I wish nothing more than to see you happy again, so while I cannot deny I enjoy the pleasure of your touch, believe that I shall always respect your wishes. You have nothing to be concerned of, A'maelamin, so saes, please agree to return to the apartment."

Now it was Grace's turn to frown. She was ready to say no, but she didn't . . . Grace couldn't possibly tell Nuada no, not while those jewel eyes silently begged her to relent. "You are impossible!" she growled out in mock disgust. "And besides, I'm going to be with Trey for the next few days. What good will it do for me to come back to the apartment? I won't even be there most of the time!"

"Trey is most welcome to call on you at the apartment, so again that is nothing to be concerned of, Erulissë. I will never begrudge you his friendship. Now please, saes tell me you shall return home this night for I do not intend to see you huddled on the cold, filthy floor of your unfinished house one more night!"

It was more information than Nuada intended to let slip out, and Grace's eyes lit as her mind seized it. She'd been positive he was coming there and watching over her, if nothing but from his smell alone. "You've been watching over me the whole time, haven't you?" Grace asked him, her eyes narrowed to demanding little slits as she stared up at him and shivered.

"Indeed I have," he admitted readily, his expression devious as he showed the faintest grin. "And you should be ashamed for forcing me to resort to underhanded means to find you twice now! Leaving me to stand in the shadows for endless hours and listen to you snore, but I have no regrets. You are important to me and it is what I wish to do, so tell me . . . Can you collect your things alone, or do you wish me to come help you pack?"

Incapable of suppressing her sarcastic smile, Grace shook her head at him and climbed in the truck, rolling the window down to stare at him. "I don't snore, and I'll see you in a while," she told him with a snicker. Nuada returned the smile, and nodded his head to her politely, but the look on his face dared her not to return to that apartment, so she dutifully headed that Escalade across town to collect her things. It was everything Nuada wanted at that particular moment, but when he turned and headed back inside, something caught his eye, and he got a whole lot more from Grace than he bargained for.

It was cold outside, hovering right around the freezing point, and all the windows of the cars outside were fogged, including those on the Jaguar, and Nuada's face creased in confusion as he headed around it wondering what the strange marking all over his windows were. They became clearer with every step, and by the time Nuada was standing directly beside the gleaming black car door, his mouth had dropped open, and all he could do was stare, as frozen as the ice crystals clinging to that glass.

When Eric Northman stepped outside Fangtasia some time later, Nuada was still staring, and the vampire immediately wondered what was wrong. He'd seen Nuada go outside and knew Grace went out shortly thereafter, but judging from the startled expression on his friend's face, he wondered if harsh words had been exchanged between them. "Everything alright friend?" he asked curiously, easing over to stand beside Nuada at the passenger side of his car.

"Erulissë wrote that," Nuada murmured softly, eyes firmly locked on that car window, absorbing every single mark and word Grace wrote on that frigid glass in her drunken stupor while Eric drove her to dinner.

The vampire didn't even realize Grace had written anything - although he did remember the footprints on the windshield part pretty clearly – so tilting his head, he studied the glass himself, finally opening the car door and sinking into the seat so he read the words more clearly. He found it a bit less surprising than Nuada did, so after reading it for the tenth time, Eric pulled himself from the plush leather seat and gently closed the door. "Drunk people do strange things," he said, "but I've heard it makes humans tell the truth . . . they lose their inhibitions."

Nuada's face was a mask of confusion when he turned to face Eric. "Erulissë," he whispered her name softly, "wrote that she loves me. Is that even possible?"

Considering the very occasion they had celebrated that night, Eric Northman thought anything was possible, especially where love was concerned. "I believe it is," he answered firmly. "What do you believe?"

Nuada's eyes had returned to the car window, determined to burn every smeared finger mark on that glass into his brain so he would remember it forever . . . the little hearts Grace drew around the edges, the big heart that held her name nestled against his, "I love you Nuada" in big capital letters across the bottom portion. He was stunned, incapable of even answering Eric, his mind somewhere far, far away as he stood there in stunned silence. Finally Eric left him to his thoughts, the reassuring squeeze to his shoulder telling his friend he was available if his ear was required again.

****************************************************

Eric's ear was required, just not until the following evening. It was now Christmas Eve and while vampires did not celebrate human holidays, out of respect to his girlfriend and her race, Eric made the decision to close Fangtasia that night. He was still there, a quick visit by the office before heading to Sookie's for the night. Nuada had called, requesting a moment of his time, and Eric was also waiting for Grace to arrive. He'd thoroughly enjoyed her prank, the first time in hundreds of years he'd been subjected to a practical joke, but while he thought the dancing possums were extremely interesting, if Eric had to hear that harsh Latino voice scream out "Tequila" once more, he was positive his computer would not survive.

The red Corvette hadn't been behind Fangtasia thirty minutes before that new black Jaguar joined it. Eric knew instantly something was up when Nuada carefully slipped into his office then hesitated before closing the door. Given everything that had gone on between him and Grace over the past few weeks, the vampire was almost scared to ask, positive this was going to relate to her, and he was absolutely correct.

Nuada paced, he blushed, he stammered and finally after a good fifteen minutes of sheer panic and procrastination he humbly confessed. It had taken every bit of Eric's stoic coldness to suppress the huge smile that threatened to overtake him at his friend's words, but he persevered, remaining perfectly composed as he listened to his friend's confession. The words written on that car window had worked on Nuada over the past twenty-four hours, wearing him down, forcing him to acknowledge certain things. Nuada cared very deeply for Grace, and he was positive she cared for him in return, so for the very time in his life, Nuada wanted to properly court a woman . . . and he had no earthly idea how to do it. He'd bought that Jaguar for the sole purpose of taking her out to dinner, and it simply pissed her off . . . he could broker multi-million dollar real estate transactions effortlessly, but when she looked at him his mouth froze . . . and while he was one of the most feared mercenaries alive, the prospect of dating a simple human girl terrified him.

Eric's outward expression never changed as he inwardly laughed his dead ass off, thankful Nuada's extremely powerful telepathic abilities were useless on him. As Sheriff of Area 5 he'd been involved with similar conversations, approached by vampires who decided to mainstream and found themselves suddenly faced with human relationships, so he actually handled Nuada's revelation quite well. Eric warned Nuada - human women were difficult, they were temperamental, they were demanding, they could be hateful and mean, they cried, they pouted, they threw things – and they were worth every second of it! Even after his warning speech, Nuada was undeterred, so Eric offered as much information and support as was needed, along with wishes for the best of luck . . . because that elf was certainly going to need it.


	29. Merry Christmas

Chapter 29 – Merry Christmas

Shit rolls downhill, and unfortunately Haldir of Lórien was finding himself at the bottom of it. In retrospect, he could find only shame in the way he treated Grace in that hotel room, and he didn't need to be reminded of it, but oh was he going to be reminded. The first lecture predictably came from Glorfindel, and his worn leather boots had hardly tested the wood of that General's talan after walking away from Nuada in the arena before an ancient face surrounded by a mane of golden hair was right up in his.

"You are either going to get yourself killed, or you are going to get yourself exiled," the warrior's harsh voice rasped out in fury. "I do not like to see my friends make such tragic mistakes!"

Easing into a nearby chair, Haldir could only hang his head and sigh. Glorfindel was absolutely correct. He should be ashamed of his conduct and he was. Duty bound to serve, he devoted his entire existence to the protection of honor, and now he was the very one not upholding to that truth.

"You do NOT understand!" Haldir growled out softly. "The human possesses me! I cannot resist her, and I can feel her . . . it is almost as if she lives inside me . . . every thought, every dream, every breath she takes I can nearly touch it, and it is driving me insane!"

The golden warrior considered his friends words deeply for a moment, his arms hanging heavy across his chest as he stood before him. "Did you not go to her in order to grant a blocking spell? Well, perhaps my friend, you need a blocking spell of your own." Glorfindel's words were oddly provocative, and a strange light seemed to cut on in the depths of Haldir's eyes. If Grace could be blocked from others, why couldn't Haldir simply block her from himself?

"Mellon nín, that just might work!" he exclaimed softy, his mind already deep in consideration of Glorfindel's tantalizing suggestion. "It very well might!"

Truth be known, Haldir needed little encouragement to try and block this blood bond he shared with Grace. His condition had deteriorated every day since she left Rivendell, and he was now so tormented by his attachment to Grace, even keeping up with his duties was becoming a challenge for Haldir. He'd actually found himself delegating work to Orophin and Rumil so he didn't fall so far behind. Haldir knew he did not possess such magical power as to impart a powerful spell of shielding, but he certainly knew someone who did. Unable to continue in his present state, Haldir finally gave up, making preparations to travel to Rivendell and heading out the following morning.

Timing was always one of Haldir's strongest allies, yet it plotted against him as he lightly traversed the smooth stone steps of Imladris. Loud voices were floating down from the southern terrace, and he found himself suddenly inserted into the midst of a terrible altercation between Lord Elrond and Lord Niall, one of the most raucous that had taken place between the brothers in many, many centuries. Lord Niall was not yet aware of Nuada's visit to the marchwarden camp, but he was more than aware of that teary telephone call he received from Grace, and it torn his ancient heart apart when he heard the fragile voice of his beloved great-grandchild destroyed in such a manner. He'd held his tongue against his brother over that fiasco of a revelation as to Nuada being compensated for her care, but this was too much, too soon afterward and the Fairy Lord was hell bent on revenge.

"I will kill that marchwarden myself," he threatened firmly, his burning aura throwing wild white lightening into the air as he struggled to retain some semblance of control. "If that elf ever touches my great-granddaughter in such a manner again, I will personally tear his very soul from his physical form!"

Elrond was struggling himself, desperate to remain in control of his own faculties as Gandalf tried to mediate. These two could not afford to lose control with one another, particularly Lord Niall. The creature possessed the power to reduce his brother to a pile of dust if he simply wished for it, but while Elrond was more than aware of the danger, he knew his brother would never actually harm him – although Elrond had no desire to see his beautiful home or beloved gardens singed to twigs either!

Unfortunately, the elf lord couldn't promise the same for Haldir and they'd been fighting wildly for many minutes when the stunned marchwarden appeared at the edge of the balcony. Before he could beat a hasty retreat, he was discovered, those sea green eyes of the Fairy Lord latching hold of him immediately. "Do not think of leaving this place, Haldir of Lórien. Join us."

The malevolent voice rang out so cold it threw chills down Haldir's spine as he reluctantly made his way to the table, instantly on one knee with that head bowed low to the intimidating duo he faced. "Rise, mellon nín," Elrond told him tersely. "You are in no danger here."

That drew a vicious glare from Lord Niall, but Elrond dismissed it. His brother wouldn't dare touch one silver hair on that head without his permission, and that was never, ever going to happen. "Sit with us. I myself am anxious to hear about these things which have come to pass of late."

Carefully slipping into the nearest chair, Haldir found himself somewhat comforted by the presence of Elrond and Gandalf. They were both most sympathetic to his situation, even if the Fairy Lord was not.

"Do not forget brother, you sat on this very terrace, thanking this very marchwarden for saving the life of your great-grandchild. And he has saved her more than once! Do you so easily forget?" Elrond's voice was colder than Niall's had been, his harsh silver stare raking across that expanse of stone that separated them.

"I forget nothing. My appreciation for his gift has not waned, but my patience with his method at taking advantage of it has. I begrudge no man, no woman, no creature pleasures of the flesh. I myself partake of them often but I expect it to be a willing union. Never do I expect to hear one of my own bloodline express to me that they were forced or coerced!" That green glare was locked on Haldir so firmly, he could literally feel the weight of it setting on top of him, actually blocking his air as he struggled to draw breath.

"She is not the only one who has been forced." Haldir said softly, and even Niall froze at his words. Elrond's face creased into a ridiculous frown, and Gandalf caught his breath. Truer words had never been spoken. Haldir was never asked if he wanted to help Grace, he was commanded to, and now he was trapped in a living hell he couldn't escape from. "And if any man believes I would bring harm to Grace then my soul is already lost, for I could never bear to bring harm to that human woman."

Reaching a gentle hand to Haldir's arm, Elrond could literally feel the pain of the tortured elf beside him. He had warned Haldir just as Niall warned Nuada, Grace could possess their very souls if they were not careful. The strange little human woman had a bewitching quality where those two were concerned and neither man seemed capable of resisting.

"Help me." Haldir begged softly, raising a shattered expression to the elf lord he held in such high regard. "Saes. Please I beg you . . . help me release myself from this bond. It is unnatural, and I shall not survive it much longer."

Teeth clenched so tight they would nearly break, Elrond's ancient mind raced for a solution. Surely, the three powerful creatures surrounding that table could do something to break this tie that bound Grace and Haldir together!

"There is a way, but it will take time . . . much more time that I believe you have." Niall offered in a much more subdued voice. "Do not forget, Grace is being bestowed the essence of her grandfather. Once the ritual is complete, she will be released from you. Your blood in her veins will mean nothing after her aura transforms in acceptance of his. There is hope, but I cannot offer you the immediate relief you so desperately seek."

"Perhaps I can." Gandalf interjected. He'd been listening carefully to this entire exchange, his own ancient mind scrambling to find some way to reflect this bond if he could offer nothing more. "Stay the night Haldir, rest your weary mind for a time here, enjoy the beauty Imladris offers. I will return in the morning, and I believe I can change these circumstances." Without even waiting for a reply, the magnificent white wizard left.

"Agreed Haldir. Go. Rest yourself this evening, and do not hang your head. There is no shame in what you have done. The fairy essence draws you to her as a moth is drawn to the flame, and you are incapable of resisting. I repeat my words to you yet again - Find another to take her place – if you cannot allow another to possess your heart, then allow them to possess your flesh until we find some end to this weary road you travel." Elrond's voice was firm and not to be questioned. His words were not polite suggestions, they were commands, and he intended for them to be followed.

Haldir said nothing further. His mind was weary, and he silently prayed to the Valar they would share the knowledge necessary to help him with the great white wizard. Dutifully, he retired to a bedchamber although he barely slept, and his heart was heavy when he returned to the courtyard table the next morning. Lord Niall was not there, and that offered a small comfort as he placed himself before the steaming meal that awaited him.

"Eat!" Elrond commanded firmly. "We have good news for you this day." Startling blue eyes flew to meet the elf lord's as Haldir's mind desperately hoped it heard those words correctly.

"I do not believe our friend wishes to wait for his news." Gandalf said with a smile, his voice gruff, but his tone gentle. Holding out a weathered hand, he opened it to reveal a thin carved band of gold. Elven betrothal rings were beautiful, each unique, specific to one family. Haldir's family did not have such a possession, all was lost when his parents passed, and neither he nor his brothers ever needed such a thing.

"Tis not the original one of your line," Gandalf told him, "but it will certainly suffice."

Haldir's eyes were as big as platters as he stared over the table at that ring, and when Elrond's deep laughter filled the air of the terrace, he nearly collapsed. "We do not intend to marry you off!" The elf lord chuckled, bemused to no end at Haldir's stricken expression and stunned eyes. "It is simply an object upon which Gandalf has placed a permanent blocking spell. Nothing more."

Slightly blue from not breathing for the past few minutes, Haldir finally relaxed enough to take air in again when Elrond's words made their way through the fog encompassing his thoughts, forcing himself to calm, willing his racing heart to slow as he contemplated their words. It would take a lot of explaining to his brothers and friends if he showed up wearing such a thing, but he was willing to do anything if it stopped the burning in his veins.

"Would you like to try it?" Gandalf told him softly, extending his hand across the table.

Reluctantly, Haldir took the ring. It was warm from Gandalf's touch, smooth and somewhat light in his hand. Finally he slid it onto his finger, and the release was immediate. His blood cooled the very instant it touched his flesh, and it was the most shocking sensation he'd ever felt before. Sliding it off again, the burning instantly returned, showing him that the spell was indeed indigenous to the ring and the ring only.

Producing a small scroll made of parchment paper tied with a leather string, Gandalf offered it to the marchwarden. "The sacred spell is recorded upon this paper. One copy is safely stowed within my library, the other shall reside with you. Should anything ever befall that golden band, either of us can recall it."

Unable to suppress the huge smile that crossed his face, Haldir slid that ring right onto his finger without a moment's hesitation, carefully tucking that scroll into his hidden pocket. Those two items suddenly became his most prized possessions in the world, and he sincerely doubted he'd ever let anything happen to them!

"You might want to consider transferring that spell onto the marchwarden's pendant one day." Elrond told him suggestively. "Perhaps when it is returned to you?"

The smile on Haldir's face disappeared instantly, swallowed by a deep frown. It surprised Elrond, and the elderly elf turned to study his companion more closely. Touching his mind, he suddenly realized while Haldir wanted to be released from the agonies of his blood bond, that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to be completely released from Grace . . .

"That thought does not appeal to you?" he asked gently, his eyes imploring the marchwarden to answer, already aware what an honest answer would be.

"It does not." Haldir answered firmly. "The solemn vow I made to protect Grace will remain for the rest of her days. It will never be broken." Shoving his chair back, he rose abruptly from the table, surprising the two men with the pure furor that washed over him in response to Elrond's suggestion. Nodding politely, Haldir simply left. Not just that table, but Imladris entirely, immediately going to the stables to retrieve Serephim and heading that magnificent horse for the Northern Wood.

Elrond and Gandalf were stunned by his reaction, knowing that Haldir was in terrible trouble so far as Grace was concerned. It was imperative that they turn his interest toward another female and quickly. If his feelings were not redirected he was in very real danger of losing his heart to Grace permanently, and that would lead to an eternity of suffering for the beautiful elf.

That beautiful elf was long gone, and every hour spent riding was an hour spent thinking. Riding along in silence, Haldir found himself suddenly torn. He was positive when his boot touched that terrace he wanted to be released from Grace, but when that release was actually offered - literally placed within his grasp - he found himself not wanting it so much anymore. Slipping the ring into his pocket alongside the scroll, Haldir promised himself if he began to slide into the turmoil of desire that consumed him so many nights before, he would certainly relieve it with that golden band, but until that time came again, he would remain bonded to the little human woman who touched his heart.

***************************************

Nuada was just about to climb into that gleaming new black Jaguar when a strange roar met his ears. The low rumbling grew louder and louder until his very car windows began to vibrate, and Nuada couldn't hide his surprise at the sight of Grace curled up on the back of that gleaming chromed out monstrosity of a Harley Davidson motorcycle Trey Lockhardt pulled up on.

Grace warned Nuada she would be spending the next few days with her friend, he'd even heard her sultry southern voice making arrangements to meet Trey that morning, but seeing her body wrapped in all that tight black leather pressed up against another man was a reality check in the worst possible way, and it was only going to get worse.

It was the first time Nuada had seen Grace since leaving the party last night, and as he ran an exploring gaze over her, he not only felt his heart stop beating in his chest, he felt it start beating in an entirely different place, much lower down. Even Eric appreciated the sight meeting those soft blue eyes, and he wasn't above leaning right up against that bright red Corvette and taking a closer look himself.

Grace knew Nuada's eyes were glued on her, and she had the advantage, the reflective lenses of her sunglasses completely blocking her gaze from him. Sliding them into her hair, her face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling as she slowly slithered off the back of that bike, shredding Nuada's frayed nerves with a single sultry glance. Those faded jeans were so tight a flea would have smothered inside them, although most of the denim was covered by a pair of black leather chaps, that tantalizing fringe running down both legs just swaying as she moved. The heavy black leather jacket fit like a second skin, crossed by heavy silver zippers and emblazoned with Harley Davidson across the back with a big red rose underneath. From her wind blown hair to her matching black leather boots, Grace was doing biker chic to perfection, and she looked so damn hot Nuada thought he'd catch on fire.

Smiling away and enjoying the extremely dirty thoughts she was positive her outfit was causing, Grace was bubbling with excitement when she walked over to greet them, careful to give Nuada a beaming smile and warm hello as she went into the building. Nuada was so busy staring at her ass, he could hardly listen as Trey began to happily entertain the two men while Grace released Eric's computer from her humorous grip. It only took a few moments, and soon she returned in the company of Pam the vampire.

Grace didn't know where Pam came from. She never saw the vamp drive a car, didn't even know where Pam lived, only that she was just there in Eric's office when she walked in. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that blond vamp was desperate to get to know Trey a little better, and Grace was in a giving mood – it was after all Christmas Eve – so she happily obliged. Her beloved male friend deserved a little fun in his life too!

Standing in the cold December air, Nuada's mind was still reeling from the confessions he'd just made to Eric, not quite believing he was even considering such a thing as a relationship with a woman, much less a human one when Grace herself showed up and smacked his mind out of that fog it was in. He may as well wake up, because Grace was fixing to finish him off.

The girls came piling out the back door of Fangtasia like the best of friends and Grace sidled right up to Nuada. "You gonna give me my next ride tonight?" she asked with a devious grin, and Nuada's heart quit beating. Eric couldn't help that sly twitch that caught the corner of his mouth . . . he couldn't wait to hear this.

"Pardon me?" Nuada asked uncertainly, his impeccable manners firmly in place no matter the circumstance.

"A ride. I want to know if you will give me a ride back to the apartment in your new car. Pam wants to ride with Trey on the bike." Grace was emphasizing that word ride the same way she did the night she was so drunk at dinner, and Eric's mind flew back to what she'd said about that very Jag.

He'd been sure to tell Nuada, and now Eric was gonna be sure to remind him too! Catching Nuada's attention, that evil vampire leaned right over and patted that car hood, daring his friend to remember Grace's words. Incapable of speaking for a moment as that captivating thought went tearing through his own mind, Nuada could only manage a stunned nod. Laughing at his obvious distress, Grace only made it worse, and Nuada watched in complete disbelief as she began to strip right there in the parking lot.

Pam had no idea what to wear to ride on a motorcycle because she'd never done it before, but Grace knew she was gonna need something other than the thin pants and shirt she showed up in. It only took a few minutes for Grace to have her encased in black leather, strapping on her chaps and leather jacket, laughing as she told Pam to suck it in so she could get the thing zipped. Placing her sunglasses on her friend's face for protection from the wind, Grace even ran to grab a rubber band to hold her hair out of the way before bidding them a wonderful good night.

All three men in attendance were shocked at the transformations. Seeing Pam dressed in all that tight animal skin was a drastic change from her normal apparel of ultra conservative pastel twin sets and suits, and even Eric found himself admiring how well the blond vampire was carrying it off. Seeing Grace left in nothing more than a thin Harley t-shirt and the tightest jeans they'd ever seen was a very pleasant sight the whole way around, and Nuada didn't mind waiting one bit as she prepared to leave. Slightly concerned that Grace would have problems getting in the car, he was pleased when she slid right in after a huge hug and a big sloppy kiss to Trey's cheek.

Pam was a little tense as she climbed on the back of a motorcycle for the first time, and inside that Jag things were tense as well. Grace wasn't the problem. She was as happy as a clam. Seeing her friend, and riding on the Harley had pleased her to no end, and she was humming along with the radio, perfectly content with Nuada's company, as relaxed as if she'd been on a beach somewhere.

Nuada could not possibly relax. He did not give women rides in cars - not for business, not for pleasure, not for anything. He had never dated, and he had never sought to entertain the company of a woman in such a private manner. That invitation to dinner when he first brought Grace back from Rivendell had been a first for him, and this was certainly another one. Considering that as he drove away, Nuada wondered just what the hell happened to him over these past three months since he'd become involved with Grace because obviously, he'd lost his mind!

The smell of her perfume was intoxicating, and the smell of leather hanging on her skin mixed with it throughout the intimate interior of that car, permeating every one of his senses. Within seconds Nuada was convinced if he hadn't lost his mind, he was certainly in danger of it and after only a few miles he honestly didn't know if he'd be able to make it to the apartment without stopping that car to kiss her. Finally, he rolled the windows down a little, letting the cool night air run through the car. It helped him slightly, and while he managed to settle his nerves somewhat, it still took every bit of his ancient supernatural stamina to contain himself. It was with the most relief imaginable that Nuada finally pulled that Jaguar into the private parking space of the exclusive condominium and townhome complex, although it was still several minutes before he began to breathe normally again.

Grace had been completely oblivious to his discomfort, and slipped from the Jag with a huge smile. The Christmas music on the radio sent her mind reminiscing of days long past, wonderful holidays shared with family and friends, happy cartoons with Rudolph and Frosty. Enjoying the silence of the cold night air, her mind wrapped itself around those thoughts as she stood staring up at the night sky. As Nuada watched in disbelief, Grace closed her eyes, smiling softly as tiny flakes of snow began to silently drift down onto her head.

Watching her giggle and twirl under the flakes, Nuada found himself amazed by the strange little human woman yet again. It was unbelievable that Grace possessed such power, or that it had developed in only a few months. He could hardly imagine how powerful she would become as more time passed, how dangerous she would become as she absorbed more of Dermot's essence. Grace's eyes were sparkling and her face was flushed again when she turned to smile at him, a true, happy smile like Nuada had seldom seen from her, and just for a moment he felt that she was happy.

Hating for it to end, he still worried she would become chilled in such little clothing and now becoming covered in snow. "Are you ready Erulissë?" he asked quietly, almost hoping she'd say no. Continuing to smile, Grace didn't answer, just returned to his side, accepting the casual arm he placed around her waist to lead her to the elevator and the apartment above.

***************************************

Christmas morning dawned cool and clear, and Grace was more than a little surprised to find a little package sitting outside the new door of her bedroom when she opened it. There was no mistaking the unbelievably expensive paper or the elaborate bow, and Grace knew it was from Nuada. She sat there and just looked at it for a moment, surprised he'd thought to do such a thing and genuinely appreciating that he cared.

The new AC/DC CD brought a smile since he appreciated her taste in music, and she could only imagine what the smaller box was going to hold. The diamond and emerald earrings were the most amazing creations Grace had ever seen. Holding the box to the light, she could see that they matched Nuada's eyes perfectly, which Grace knew was the very reason he had gotten them. Scared to even touch them they were so beautiful, she stared at them for the longest time before she could even bring herself to try them on. Grace couldn't believe Nuada had been so thoughtful or spent so much, and she couldn't wait to thank him.

There had been a small package outside Nuada's door Christmas morning too, and Grace hoped he appreciated his gift as much as she did hers. It had taken her time and more patience than she thought she'd ever possess, but the beautiful golden egg shaped puzzle box was now complete. Those few nights she'd spent alone in that little white house were not spent idle. Grace's powers had increased dramatically, and she'd soon found that she could slide those pieces into place so fast her eyes could barely keep up. Her small tanned hands had carefully nestled it back inside the intricately carved wooden box Nuada brought it to her in at Imladris, and her eyes filled with tears when she left it outside his bedroom door during the night. Nuada's support and that puzzle were the two things that helped Grace the most as she faced this strange new life, and she hoped he knew how much both of them meant to her.

When Grace went to find Nuada, he was once again sitting cross legged on the floor of the study, only the image in front of him was much different. They hadn't worked it together, but the completed puzzle box still delighted him to no end. His eyes were captured by the sheer beauty of it as he silently watched it open, hearing the music play ever so softly in the stillness of the room. When Grace slipped to sit beside him, the earrings glittering in her ears brought an almost shy smile, and Nuada blushed when she kissed his cheek, and whispered thank you in his ear. Obviously Eric was correct about the effect jewelry had on human woman, and Nuada knew there would be plenty more in Grace's future.

Watching Nuada's delight, Grace knew his words behind Fangtasia had been absolutely correct. She did want peace for his soul, just as he wanted it for hers, and Grace hoped that puzzle box would help provide it. Grace also knew she had some more providing to do because Trey Lockhardt asked her to fix him Christmas dinner! She was soon heading out the door for Sookie's house, calling out to Nuada down the hall, inviting him to join them if he'd like. Eric and Pam were coming over at dark, and while they didn't eat, the humans sure intended to!

Sookie was thrilled when the black Escalade slipped up in front of the huge white farmhouse, glad her cousin had come for the day. Soon they were popping a huge pork roast in the oven, and she was pulling out her grandmother's personal cookbook. The book was nothing short of sacred to her, and Sookie carefully flipped the discolored pages, thinking of the hours her grandmother spent pouring over them, cooking one family dinner after another from them. No matter how many times she ran it through her mind, she couldn't imagine her wonderful grandmother laying in the arms of a fairy, but obviously she did, and the cousin standing beside her was proof!

Choosing their recipes, the girls jotted down a quick shopping list and Grace headed off to the grocery store while Sookie pulled pots and pans from every cabinet. She returned with everything required, and a few extras including a few huge bridal magazines and by the time eight o'clock rolled around, both girls were satisfied and excited. Cooking wasn't something either girl did very often, Sookie stopping after her grandmother passed, Grace stopping after her father passed, but the cousins were both fine southern cooks and there was enough food for a small army on the counter by the time they finished.

It looked and smelled wonderful, and the girls had been chatting happily of weddings and dresses as they moved around the kitchen together. Knowing even Trey and themselves could never eat it all, Grace truly hoped Nuada would come. She was holding onto that thought when she heard Eric's corvette growl into the drive, and only minutes later, it was joined by the loud rumble of Trey's truck.

Glancing out the window, she could see several people coming up to the front porch, and Sookie headed to the door to let everyone inside. Adding the bread from the oven to the other food on the kitchen counter, Grace was pleased to hear Trey talking away, smiling when she heard his familiar voice. Trey would enjoy himself tonight – who wouldn't? In addition to the huge boston butt roast, the two girls had home made macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole, candied potatoes, potato salad, deviled eggs, corn on the cob, and even made homemade biscuits and little crescent rolls. It was a true traditional Christmas dinner, and while they had no idea what they'd do with all that left over food, they had a fantastic time making it and that was all that mattered.

While Sookie was greeting everyone at the door, Grace was setting the plates on the table, surprised to see that in addition to Eric and Trey, Pam and Nuada had also come through that front door, and not far behind them Sam from Merlotte's was eased inside too! It was a most welcome surprise, and Grace simply turned back to the cabinet for some more plates.

The meal was eaten, the conversation flowed easily and the cousins tended to everyone perfectly. Sookie plopped a warm bottle of TrueBlood in both vampire's hands, and together the cousins made sure the men ate as much as they could hold. Every man there loved to eat, not just Trey, and the girls were thrilled to see the mountain of food disappearing. Eric sat with the other men around the table and they spoke of hunting and manly things, while the girls sat over to the side talking about nothing particular.

When everyone was completely stuffed, Sookie moved the main dishes from the counter while Grace pulled the coconut cake from the refrigerator along with a strawberry pie, and started putting them on saucers and placing them in front of the men. When she made it to the far side of the table, Grace brushed against Nuada, and he stopped talking, giving her his full attention as he smiled softly at her. His green eyes just glowed as he looked up at her, and Grace found herself in awe of him. Nuada was a breathtakingly beautiful creature, and she allowed herself the luxury of just looking at him for a moment, smiling back before forcing herself to finish what she was doing, knowing he was watching her every step.

Finally, the dishes were safely in the dishwasher, Pam joining the men in the den to talk while Sookie and Grace wiped down the counters. "Did you know Nuada was coming tonight?" Sookie asked Grace quietly.

Grace gave her a mischevious look. "I asked him to."

That brought a huge smile. Sookie didn't know the details of anything that had gone on recently between Grace and Nuada, but she certainly hoped they could work out their differences. "Well, I'm glad he did. You look happy."

They were still smiling over that comment, when Grace suddenly frowned and caught her by the arm. She felt as if she was being ripped apart from the inside out, and Sookie could feel it too. "Sweetie, what's happening?" Her disturbed cousin asked, and Grace could only give her a startled expression, not knowing how to explain what was going on inside her body. Her blood was going hot then cold, hot then cold as Haldir played with that damn ring. Grace felt like she was going to die.

Thankfully, the sensation didn't last long, and after a few minutes Grace was able to collect herself. Not long after, Sam stood, indicating he needed to leave. He'd been burning with curiosity at the thought of Eric and Sookie getting engaged, and he'd accepted Sookie's dinner invitation so he could see that ring for himself. The shifter's interest in his blond waitress was not entirely restricted to his being her employer, but he'd known how she felt about that vampire for a very long time. Eric Northman would treat Sookie well, and he offered his sincere congratulations before he left. After he left, the other men made their way out to the porch, and Grace knew it wouldn't be long before Trey left as well. Pam was out there with them, but for some reason Grace and Sookie felt content to remain in the kitchen, just enjoying the quiet evening as they sat at the kitchen table and talked.

The past several weeks had been very difficult for Grace, and Sookie knew her cousin was strained to her very limits although she didn't entirely know why. Out on her front porch, Nuada was about to find himself strained to his limits as well, hearing Trey call him over to the side for a little chat. That soft smile he shared with Grace earlier had not gone unnoticed!

"You got a minute young feller?" the deep cordial voice sounded, and Nuada complied, more out of politeness than genuine interest.

"Yes sir?" he answered politely. Nuada was thousands of years older than Trey, but the human man had no idea and Nuada was careful to show the expected respect for his years. He'd never think of offending one of Grace's friends, especially not one who'd come so far to see her, or made her so happy.

"Can't help but see the way you keep looking over my girl in there . . . and I've seen the way she looks at you too " Trey began cautiously, his eyes carefully running over every inch of Nuada as they stood on the end of that old wooden porch, "that's my little sweetheart in there. I'd hate to get a call from her one day crying cause some boy broke her heart."

Poor Nuada was stunned. He'd endured a lot of things in his life, but having a man gently threaten him over the wellbeing of a girl was certainly not one of them. Seemed this whole "dating a human" thing involved a whole lot he wasn't aware of! It took a moment for Nuada to answer as he scrambled for a proper response to the man's obvious concerns about his intentions toward Grace.

"I can assure you Mr. Lockhardt, my intentions as to Erulissë are entirely honorable." Nuada answered carefully. His voice was steady, and he was praying those words were going to suffice for the portly gentleman in the faded jeans and black t-shirt. They didn't.

"Her name's Grace." Trey told him firmly, his eyes intent as he studied the unusual foreigner beside him. "Now you mind if I give you a little piece of advise?"

Nuada's own eyes got a little bigger, but he answered politely, wondering if he really wanted to hear this. "No sir, I don't."

"That's the sweetest thing you'll ever meet inside that kitchen. Oh don't get me wrong, she's a handful – told me to piss off the very first time I met her - but she means well. Girl's been through a lot. You can't imagine what that sweet little thing looked like the first day she walked in my shop, all broke up from her daddy dying and that damn car wreck, but as soon as I put my hand on her shoulder and told her sorry she got right in my face – told me quick where I could go, even got specific about it - and I've loved her ever since." He paused, the memories obviously getting to Trey as his eyes fell to study the floorboards for a moment.

"If you're ever lucky enough to call Grace your friend, you'll never find a truer one . . . and she could be a whole lot more than a friend to the right man if she wanted to . . . Just you keep in mind . . . she's been through enough. If you don't plan to stay inside, probably be better if you never walk though the door. Understand what I'm saying?" Trey Lockhardt's expression was as firm as it ever had been, and Nuada knew that man was serious.

Reaching out ever so gently with his mind, Nuada was shocked just how important Grace's wellbeing was to that short heavy little man, and he nodded to him gently, hoping he could believe his next words. "Mr. Lockhardt, do not ever worry that any harm will come to Eru . . . Grace by my hand or my heart."

Trey Lockhardt meant his words, and that blond haired supernatural creature standing on the end of that porch in front of him meant his too. Realizing they were in agreement, they shook hands firmly, then Trey stepped to the screen door. He was calling for Grace because it was time for him to go.

Hearing her name, Grace closed her eyes. She'd been dreading this moment for the past three days, and her time in that kitchen hadn't helped. Haldir was still playing with that damn ring, and she could feel it each and every time he slipped it along his finger, her blood going from hot to cold with alarming speed. She'd also been staring at Sookie's Christmas tree, and thoughts of her parents weren't helping anything as she compared her past holidays with the strange one she was experiencing now. Waiting at the table as long as she possibly could, Grace sat there until she heard Trey tell every single other person goodbye, then reluctantly eased from her chair.

The talented man who was her friend was standing beside that enormous black Ford, the matching trailer hitched behind it holding his Harley. She'd looked over the truck for the longest time yesterday, listening carefully as Trey described each and every thing he'd done to it. He was a sheer genius with a vehicle, and he'd put a custom paint job on that truck like no other. Beautiful multi-hued blue flames ran down the gleaming side of it, and Grace couldn't help running her hand down them as she walked up beside him.

"Thanks for coming Trey." Grace told him softly, already feeling the tightening in her throat that she knew was only going to get worse. He'd shocked the shit out of her by showing up in Louisiana to see her, and it meant more to Grace than he'd ever know.

"Knew you needed me sweetheart. I could hear it in your voice." He answered gently, and his words just tore her apart.

Seeing the tears shining in her eyes, he looked at her softly, and tried to change the subject. "I'm gonna get some of these flames made up for that Escalade of yours. I knew you'd like them, that's the reason I put 'em on."

Grace nodded her appreciation, knowing she was about to start crying, and he just reached and gathered her into those two huge arms of his and crushed her against him. "Don't you cry sweetheart. It's not like you're gonna be here forever! You're a Carolina girl, and you always will be. You'll be back in my shop before you know it, and if you don't feel like you can leave that blond haired thing on the porch over there, you just bring him along with you." He held her away from him, reaching to brush away that first tear that was snaking down her cheek then kissed her on the forehead.

That poor man looked like he just might cry right along with her when he climbed up into that huge truck, and as he started it up, he rolled the window down. "Call me every day . . . every hour if you need to Grace. Don't be a stranger. I'm never gonna complain about your voice on the other end of my phone."

Standing there staring back at Trey, Grace was fighting desperately to control herself. She was doing a fair job of it, until that damn music started playing and she nearly lost control of herself completely. Trey had Willie Nelson in that damn CD player, and he was playing "Angel Flying too Close to the Ground" because he'd always told Grace it reminded him of her.

Her tears began to choke her as Grace forced herself to back away from the truck, seeing it nudge ahead slightly when he put it in gear. Trey waved to everyone on the porch, temporarily lifting his eyes from hers, then returning them to Grace. He never eased his foot off the brake as he nodded his head, jerking it slightly, telling her to come there. Grace did, climbing up on the running board to hug him one last time through the window. "I'll miss you." She whispered, hardly able to form the words as she forced them out.

"Oh sweetheart, I'll miss you too, but that Cadillac's a fine truck. I know it'll make it to my house and back if you want it to." Trey was trying to reassure Grace, but it was only making it worse because she knew Nuada told her she couldn't ever leave Louisiana again.

Forcing herself to let go, Grace finally managed to ease herself out the window as that big rough hand gently patted her on the arm. The words of that damn song were burning into her brain as she stood there, and Grace felt like a piece of paper that was slowly being torn into little pieces. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, but Grace made herself step off that running board and back away from that truck, finally coming to lean up against her own. She waved silently, then watched Trey slowly pull that gorgeous rig down the gravel drive. Grey eyes glistening with tears were trained on the glow from those fading taillights until they completely disappeared, and when they did, Grace nearly collapsed.

At some point during Trey leaving, Haldir put that ring back on his finger, and when Grace sank against the cold metal of her truck, the blood in her veins was even colder, and so was her heart. Telling Trey goodbye was like telling the entire life she'd known in South Carolina goodbye, and watching those lights fade into the darkness just drove home the fact that her old life was gone and it was not coming back.

Her sobs were worse than they were that morning in Rivendell, and no one on that porch knew what to do. Grace was clinging to the back of that Escalade like it was going to save her, holding on to the only thing she had left of the life that was hers before this all began. Hurting so bad she could barely breath, Grace was reflecting back to Sookie in the worst way, and Eric found himself holding her as she cried right along with her cousin.

It was a horrible thing to witness, and Sookie finally couldn't take it any longer. Easing herself out of Eric's arms, she came down those wide front porch steps and walked around that Escalade, determined to talk to Grace. Her intentions were admirable, but it was a terrible mistake.

"Grace, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong. Please, I want to know. I promise I can understand what you're going through, believe me I've been there." Sookie's voice was insistent, like a little yapping Chihuahua that wouldn't go away, nipping at the heels of Grace's mind, refusing to let it rest in peace.

"Please leave me alone. Please leave me alone. Please leave me alone." Grace must have said it twenty-five times, but her beautiful blond tender hearted cousin just wasn't listening.

All Grace wanted was to be left alone for a little while, be given the opportunity to cry and grieve for her lost life. She'd calm herself eventually, then she'd be fine . . . or she wouldn't. And wouldn't won right then, because Sookie was damned determined to make Grace talk to her, only she wasn't necessarily going to like what her cousin had to say.

Her eyes were black, running with tears as Grace finally looked up at Sookie. The blue flames were flying under her skin, and Grace leveled all the anger she felt against the cousin standing in front of her. Grace might love Sookie, but there were times in everyone's life when they just couldn't be pushed any farther, and for Grace this was one of those times.

"Tell you what's wrong?" Grace's tortured voice cut through the silence, vicious, raw and broken as she began to speak, pure drops of venom hanging on the air. "I'll tell you what's wrong with me. My entire life is what's wrong with me. Everything about this whole fucking nightmare I'm living is what's wrong with me."

Easing herself away from the truck, Grace ran her eyes over Sookie, so innocent and sweet as she stood there, that big damn diamond glittering on her hand. "Do you really think the fucking shit that goes on around here is normal? Well it's not fucking normal! Nothing in this place is normal! Your boss turns into a dog . . . your boyfriend is a god damn vampire, and Nuada is a freaking elf with pointed ears who can disappear! Jesus Fucking Christ Sookie, look at me - I glow in the dark - I've been turned into a freak! I don't even have my own blood inside me anymore." Grace was hysterical, trembling like a leaf as her grief consumed her, smothering her very soul as she threw the words at Sookie.

For the most part, Sookie remained pretty calm. She had to take a few deep breaths, but she knew Grace was going through a lot right then. Her voice was gentle when she spoke, and she prayed Grace would listen. "Sweetie, we all know you've been through a lot, but I promise everything is going to be alright. Things are going to work out, you just need to calm down. You've got people who care about you."

"Care about me!" Grace nearly spat at her. "Like Haldir cares about me? Oh yeah, he cares . . . he cared enough to stop by the hotel to fuck me, cared enough to tell me I'm his little whore now because he saved my life . . . and lord knows Nuada cares! He cares so much he cuts holes in my brain after he fucks me so I can't remember it. But he 'aught to care," Grace screamed as she pointed to the car parked beside her truck, "because he just got that fucking Jaguar as payment for pretending to!"

Desperately searching for something reasonable to say in return, Sookie was frowning desperately, but coming up blank. Not one thing her cousin said so far wasn't true. "Grace if nobody else cares about you, I do. And not every Supe is like that sweetie, just look at Eric."

Those words were like pouring gasoline on a fire, and Grace really got ugly then. "Eric?" she growled out, taking a step closer, staring Sookie right in the face. "Sookie, I love you but you are the most naïve human being alive. You need to get your head out of your ass and smell the coffee honey, because I'm here to tell you, that shit ain't never gonna last."

Sookie looked genuinely shocked at her cousin's words, but it didn't deter Grace one bit. "Don't look at me like that!" she snapped. "You're twenty-nine years old, and he's over a thousand . . . did you hear what I said Sook? A thousand. You plan on letting him turn you into a vampire? Because I'll bet my life Eric Northman won't be around when you start getting old and wrinkled. When everything's sagging and you're creeping around here with a cane, do you really think his ass will be jacked back in a recliner watching?"

Grace knew she was hurting her cousin terribly, but the pain was pouring out of her like hot lava, and she simply could not stop it. "What the hell do fifty or sixty years with somebody mean to someone who's gonna live forever? Do you think your life – my life – is ever gonna mean shit to a vampire? or an elf, or a FAIRY? "

"Our great-grandfather cares about us Grace. I know he does." Sookie told her softly.

Grace's eyes were as intent as her voice, and she meant every word that came out of her mouth. "Our great-grandfather is full of shit and you know it. He didn't just show up because he's overcome with love for two little humans. Spare me. He's up to something and you know it just as good as I do, and if you tell me he isn't, you're lying."

Turning away, Grace stalked around her truck and ripped the door open. "Merry Fucking Christmas. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going home." Stopping to stand on the running board, she looked over everyone one last time. "Oh that's right . . . I don't have one." She snarled sarcastically before nearly ripping the truck door off when she slammed it.

The truck was cranked and down the drive in seconds, and behind her, Sookie silently turned and headed for the door. Nuada was standing on the porch in a complete state of shock, Pam was staring in complete disbelief and when Eric tried to catch Sookie as she walked across the porch, his new fiancée just brushed that cold hand away. "Don't." She told him firmly, going inside and locking the door behind her.

Her brain might be burning, but Grace didn't tell Sookie Stackhouse one thing she hadn't considered already, and as much as it hurt to hear it said out loud, she believed every word. How could she ever expect Eric to stay with her? How would a marriage between a bar maid and a powerful vampire ever, ever work? And while she believed their great-grandfather loved them, she agreed with Grace. Niall Brigant was up to something, they just needed to figure out what.


	30. A New Year - A New Life

Chapter 30 – A New Year, A New Life

Anyone other than a true friend would never speak to Grace again after her tirade on Christmas night, but the people standing around that huge white farm house were determined to show that broken girl from South Carolina they did care about her, and that it was genuine. She was sitting on a cold hard plastic air mattress late that night sobbing her heart out when it gave under the weight of the second body that joined hers. Nuada never said one word, knowing sometimes silence is simply the best thing. He just wrapped those warm arms around her and held her while she cried. Just as she sat with him, he now sat with her, determined he would see Grace clear of the torment that held her.

Nuada took her away from that place after she fell asleep cradled against his shoulder, gently placing her on the bed in the apartment, carefully tucking her in for the night. Her words that night had hurt him terribly, but he'd hurt her too and now they would start over. This trying year was nearly complete, and as he leaned down to plant the softest of kisses on her forehead, Nuada was thankful. The past three months had been some of the most difficult of his life, but they'd introduced him to Grace, and hopefully the worst was now over. The New Year would bring a new beginning, and as he watched Grace sleep, he prayed if the Valar were willing, the next year would end with Grace by his side the very same way this one was.

Grace didn't say much the next few days, and no one forced her to. It helped to get it all out, and now Grace was ready to begin healing. She'd been painting the hall of that little white house when Sookie silently joined her. She loved her cousin, and her cousin loved her in return. There were no hard feelings, and soon they were talking of nothing again.

It was late that evening when Nuada came creeping in, careful of the wet paint. "Is there any on the walls?" he asked sarcastically through a smug grin.

Both girls were completely covered from the droplets in their hair right down to their bare little toes, and they looked adorable in their cut off jeans and tight t-shirts. The two men standing the hall with them certainly appreciated the sight, and Grace was appreciating it too, finally seeing what Nuada looked like in a t-shirt himself, although she was positive Eric Northman just took it out of his closet.

"They'll be some on you if you aren't careful." Grace threatened, and turned to see that Sookie was already flicking some in Eric's direction.

"Help or leave!" Sookie told the two men firmly, and they knew that blonde waitress wasn't kidding.

Nuada and Eric did come to help, and it wasn't long before they were in a bedroom, carefully pulling off the painter's tape then rolling up plastic tarps to reveal the gleaming hardwood floors underneath. If there was over a moment worthy of being video taped, that was certainly it, because manual labor was something neither of those men was familiar with, and neither Grace or Sookie could resist that sneak peak through the door to watch, even if it was only for a second.

Thankfully, they were soon joined by Pam, and even Logan came along. Grace was stunned to see them all, her expression telling everyone how surprised she was as they quietly went to work. She expected a great deal of anger and resentment from these people, but all Grace got in response was a gentle pat and a kind smile. These people were her friends, and now she knew it.

It took three weeks, but slowly the house came together. The group of friends came and they went, different ones stopping by at different times, but slowly the paint colors went onto the walls, the sheetrock dust got vacuumed up, and the tarps all disappeared. Grace spent her days at the house, long hours dragging from early morning until midnight or longer many days, but Grace needed every minute of it. The painting crew was officially dismissed. Grace would fix that house, her friends would help, and together they would both be made whole again. Every patched hole in the wall was a patched hole in her heart, every blank wall covered in a beautiful new coat of paint a promise that things would get better, that Grace would be happy again.

Finally, they got down to unpacking her things, and that was the hardest part of it all. Everyone knew it would be, and everyone showed up to help, even Cairbre came. Nuada and Sookie were particularly cautious, knowing Grace probably would not take it well, positive things would be broken, possibly ruined, praying it would not be anything invaluable to her. Eric made sure Logan and Pam returned, and together the unusual group began.

As the boxes were opened, Grace was caught somewhere between excitement and apprehension. The biggest thing that struck her was the smell of salt air slamming into her senses and her heart immediately broke. Living near the ocean for her entire life, Grace knew it would be a very hard habit to break, and it got to the others as well. The very scent of sunshine and sand permeated every single thing Grace owned and it was a stark contrast to the heavy air of Louisiana.

Everyone understood when she slipped outside, and Grace took a few minutes to just stand there in the quiet darkness, trying to digest everything that had happened to her over the past few months. If she'd ever been asked to pick somewhere to live outside of South Carolina, Grace had no idea where she would have chosen, so she guessed Louisiana was as good a place as any, and while the jury was still out on her final opinion about every else, she loved Sookie with all her heart. Reaching for Haldir's pendant, then brushing her fingers against her neck, Grace couldn't believe the circumstances that brought her here - it was completely unbelievable, but yet it had happened, and she couldn't help wondering what other surprises Louisiana would hold in store.

Glancing around the yard of what was now her home, Grace knew she would plant a rose garden when the weather grew warmer. She thought of Duer, and Haldir and Lord Elrond . . . those strange weeks she spent in Rivendell . . . her rose garden would be some type of penance to them, a secret thank you for what the elves did for her. And they weren't the only ones who needed to be thanked, so did that wonderful group of people inside. Pondering the past would be tucked away for another time. The present was what needed her attention right now.

Returning inside, Grace found that she was fine – her breathing was steady, her hands did not shake. She could do this, and together with her friends, she did. The garage slowly emptied, a steady stream of bodies flowing through every room, stacking boxes and cartons, finally bringing in the furniture. The small one bedroom apartment was nothing compared to this new house, and the larger items from the beach house were dispatched when she sold it. There wasn't actually that much to bring inside.

When it was over, a lot of her new house was empty and that was fine too. This house was not about what Grace used to have, how she used to live, or what she used to wear. It was about the present and the future. She would buy new things, mix them with the old, blend this new life with her old one somehow, and she would be whole again.

Later that night, hot tears were slowly running down Grace's cheeks as she pressed her face to the plate glass window of the bedroom one last time, the tiny rivers of moisture gathering under her jaw before slowly pooling on her shirt. She had no idea why she was crying. This should be one of the happiest nights of her life, but instead, she found herself completely heartbroken as she stared out into the darkness. Staying in the obnoxiously luxurious apartment with Nuada over the past three months had been some of the most pleasant and unpleasant times of her life, and she didn't know what tomorrow would bring after she slept here for the last time.

Tomorrow morning, Grace would be leaving this apartment for good and for the first time since all of this began, Grace was going to be completely on her own and the idea terrified her. Sookie's life was full with work and Eric, and while Grace knew her cousin loved her to death, she had her own life to live. Nuada hadn't told her of his plans, but Grace knew after tonight she certainly wouldn't be seeing him every day. The vampires were friendly, but their friendship would always be limited by their very nature. They were all her friends, but she couldn't depend on them to be there all the time. She was going to have to do this alone.

Standing in that bedroom, Grace thought of Nuada. Though she'd never admit it, Grace secretly waited for him to walk through that magnificent carved wood door every night she slept here. She knew he went out, suspected he spent time with other women, but Grace's heart broke at the thought of being without the stunning man with the perfect manners and elegant hands by her side. Their relationship was slowly rebuilding itself, but Haldir's actions haunted her. Grace cared about Nuada with every fiber in her body and she wanted him so bad she could literally taste it, but she absolutely could not let him touch her. Standing there, Grace wondered if she would ever again be able to allow herself to be intimate with a man again.

Her mind went to Haldir, and the time they'd spent together in Rivendell. Every fiber in her body cared for that elf too and closing her eyes, she could see him there plain as day – the platinum hair shining in the darkness, feel his breath on her skin, taste his kiss against her mouth. She thought back to their fight, to the wild lovemaking afterward, to that horrible visit to the hotel suite. It was terrible that they could drive each other to do such things, and she wondered where he was, how he was, and if he ever thought of her.

Considering the two beautiful men as a whole, Grace found herself crippled by Lord Elrond's words. No matter how hard she tried, she would never accept them. It seemed so cruel to believe both Haldir and Nuada would forever be outside her reach, that she might possess their attention for a fleeting moment, but they were destined to move on, incapable of loving a mortal like herself. Her heart broke to think she would never be able to share her life with either of them and Grace wondered if she would ever know the true love of a man, or if she would always be alone.

It had been nearly eight weeks since Grace killed the vampire in the warehouse, and as she stood in the silence Grace wondered what she had become and what this New Year would bring her way. She was glad she'd been able to use this strange gift she was struggling against to do some good – glad she helped that child, glad she'd been able to heal Haldir's brothers, but the anger tormented her. Closing her eyes, she could still hear the crunch of bones under her command, and she wondered if the evil from her grandfather had somehow found a new place to rest inside her.

The list of questions tormented Grace through the night, forcing sleep away, refusing to allow her eyes to close. She was just struggling into the kitchen the following morning when Nuada peeped around the corner with a huge bunch of roses in his hand.

"I came to tell you congratulations! Your first day in your new home!" He was smiling brightly, and Grace smiled back as pleasantly as she could manage, but he knew it was not genuine and frowned.

"What is this? Tears on such an important day?" he gave her a confused look, slipping to sit on one of the bar stool at the islands. "Erulissë, what is wrong?"

Grace simply nodded nothing, wiping her nose on a tissue and taking a swig from her drink. "I'll be fine." She told him firmly, her teary eyes taking in the absolutely gorgeous coral colored roses against the granite countertop. "Thank you for the roses, they're beautiful."

Seeing them only brought back more memories of Rivendell and more tears, so Grace quickly ducked away, refusing to let Nuada see how upset she really was. Forcing herself not to completely break down, Grace went back to the bedroom, hiding as she struggled to slow her racing heart and shaking hands. Her things were all packed, her suitcases already in her truck, but she could feign a last look around.

Standing by that all too familiar window, Nuada slipped to stand beside her. Studying her face in the morning light, he could tell Grace was devastated, and he didn't know what to say to comfort her. "You are never alone Erulissë, I promise." He told her gently.

Grace said nothing, unable to tell him how she felt, desperately wishing she was brave enough to confess how much she'd miss him. They'd flirted with each other since that terrible night he last held her, held hands from time to time, kissed each other on the cheek, but that was as far as it went. Unable to resist, she buried her hands in that long golden hair and pulled his mouth down to meet hers, her very lips begging him to possess them one more time before she left. He gladly answered, kissing her for what seemed like forever, and Grace could hardly breathe when he released her.

Clinging to her in the empty room, Nuada pressed his face to hers. "Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'" He whispered, the warm breath gentle against her skin as he reached to run a gentle finger down her cheek. "My heart shall weep until it sees thee again."

Grace couldn't help the tears that bit her eyes when she heard those words, remembering the last time he said them to her. He'd returned to her, and she was positive she would return to him too. Knowing it was time to go, Grace reluctantly stepped away from him. She couldn't bear to meet his eyes, and simply walked out.

Hearing the heavy wooden door close, Nuada knew Grace was gone. Slipping to sit at the kitchen island, he looked around, remembering how Grace stood in her bare feet throwing crystal glasses at him that night. His eyes ran over the stainless of the refrigerator, remembering how he pressed her against it in anger, how he held her against it in passion, how the very color resembled her eyes.

Suddenly the apartment seemed so empty, so dead without her there - and his heart broke. The time that creature spent with Grace had changed Nuada, touched something so deep within his soul it had never been touched before. Nuada wanted her – wanted that strange little human woman more than anything he had ever wanted. He didn't want her to be alone, didn't want to be alone, and if at any moment she'd only said the words, Grace could have stayed with him forever.

***************************************

When the Escalade pulled onto the concrete drive in front of her little white house some thirty minutes later, Grace gathered her thoughts and went inside. She'd rarely been here alone as everyone helped her prepare for this day, but as she walked through the door she was met with dead silence. Refusing to succumb to sadness, she went to work, slowly examining every room, realizing that there were so many things she needed. Carrying a small notepad with her from room to room, she added item after item she needed to purchase then finally gave up and went to work unpacking the few things in her suitcases.

There were clothes in buried inside those two black cases she hadn't seen in months, and Grace had been pleasantly surprised to find a new washer and dryer in the utility room as she wandered around that morning. She had no doubt they were from Nuada, and she knew she'd be thanking him for them when she started doing that laundry in a little while. Grace needed to thank her magnificent guardian anyway because he'd thought of everything, right down to stocking the refrigerator with Diet Dr. Pepper for her, and she couldn't help but smile.

Unpacking her things, she suddenly found the clothes she'd worn in Rivendell in the very bottom of her suitcase. They'd been stuck down there all this time, never washed or touched since she returned. She hesitated, the brought one of the tops to her face to breath in the smell of it. It smelled like Haldir, and fighting back tears she immediately vowed to never wash it again, or any of the others for that matter. Instead, she gathered them up and carefully sealed them in plastic bags to preserve their smell and hid them in one of the drawers of her dresser. It seemed a silly thing to do, but she felt sure there would come a time that she would want nothing more than to take them out and smell the woodsy scent of the man she missed so much from time to time.

By the time Grace had finished putting away her things, working on her list, and checking out every inch of the house and yard it was dark. She'd set the smallest bedroom up as an office, and headed to the computer desk to arrange her computer and things. She still had a few things to collect from Nuada's office, but she was saving that trip knowing there would certainly come a day she'd want nothing more than to pay him an impromptu visit just to remind herself what he looked like. Returning to the kitchen for a drink from the fridge, Grace found that she had run out of things to do and she didn't feel like going shopping tonight so she decided on a shower and bed.

The shower was nice, but nothing compared to that granite masterpiece she'd been using, and somehow after that shower with Nuada she knew she'd never think about taking any shower quite the same again. It was sometime late when she sank into the odd familiarity of her own bed for the first time in months. Her bed was king size, same as the one at the apartment, but it was so very different in every way. It was very high, but Grace loved it, the bleached wood reminding her of the color of beach sand that had been in the sun too long and it was covered in a variety of solid white quilts and a duvet. It was simple, unassuming and perfect.

Perfect as it might be, sleep still did not come easy. It never does when you are in unfamiliar surroundings. Every time Grace closed her eyes, her mind alternated between Nuada's face and Haldir's face. Never before had she felt so completely alone. She didn't even know where either one of them was. Finally, the soft comfort of the bed took over and she fell asleep. When she finally woke, the sun was high in the sky and Grace found herself wishing it was shining on anywhere other than Shreveport.

Walking around the local supercenter later that afternoon, Grace found herself overwhelmed at the sheer volume of things she needed. Everything from paper towels to groceries had to be purchased, and Grace was happy that money was not a concern. She wasn't rich by any means, but she was comfortable.

Grace hated shopping for big ticket items, but the movers had been so kind as to destroy her television, so she decided she'd celebrate her new house with a gift to herself. Heading to the electronics department she read specifications for the longest time, then just gave up. Who could possibly understand that anyway? She'd just take that 42" television in the middle price range, and she was positive it would be just fine! Her cart was already overflowing, and Grace decided she had enough treasures for one afternoon and headed toward the checkout. She had absolutely no idea how she'd get the television out of her truck after the store personnel loaded it, and wondered if she could use it as an excuse to get Nuada to come see her at the new house.

That wasn't going to be a problem, because when Grace pulled up to the house there was a beautiful black Jaguar waiting in the driveway. Entering the house she knew she was not alone. "Hello?" she called out.

"Erulissë! So nice that you have returned," came the familiar voice of Nuada from the den. It echoed across the hardwood floors because the room was empty. Grace's casual denim slipcovered couch had also fallen victim to the mover's harsh habits and while she hadn't been that upset, although Sookie nearly flipped when she saw it broken nearly in half under that pile of boxes. The beachy sofa wouldn't have been suited to the traditional styling of the new house anyway, so Grace knew on top of everything else, she was facing a trip to the furniture store.

Nuada had been walking around the empty room somewhat impatiently waiting for her. "I came to see how you were doing. Lord Niall is concerned, as am I."

"I'm fine Nuada." She told him firmly, thrilled to see him again even though it had only been one day since she left. He was as gorgeous as ever, and Grace could tell from his expression his concerns for her were completely sincere. "I've been shopping, but it's getting on my nerves. I really don't really like to shop that much."

"Since you're here, would you please do me a favor?" Grace asked him expectantly. Nuada was pleased to help, following her out to the truck and retrieving the television for her. As he came into the den, effortlessly carrying the huge heavy box, it occurred to Grace that there was absolutely nothing to put the thing on. Looking to her for direction, she simply shrugged. "Just sit it on the floor."

As Nuada gently lowered the huge box onto the gleaming hardwood floors, he turned and looked over her carefully. Grace didn't look as well as she could have, and he knew she did not sleep well the night before. He frowned at her, but said nothing as he helped make what seemed like fifty trips back and forth inside carrying bag after bag of items into the house. Every bag seemed to irritate Grace that much more, and Nuada was surprised by her reaction. He thought all human women loved to shop, but obviously Grace felt differently.

They'd fallen into the habit of sitting at the kitchen island in the apartment to talk, and it just seemed natural as they slipped onto the stools arranged around the kitchen counter. Nuada was her guardian, and now that they were no longer living under the same roof, he would be visiting her often. Grace deserved privacy in her new home, and since he was a man, it wasn't practical for Nuada to simply pop into her house unannounced at any given time. They agreed that at the very least, he would come visit each Thursday and they would have dinner together.

Nuada agreed to those terms very reluctantly, almost wishing he had never helped get the house for Grace. Truth be told, Grace was more reluctant that he was. It made her nauseous to think of only seeing Nuada once a week, but she just smiled softly, once again refusing to tell him how much she missed him.

As it became late Nuada stood, ready to leave for the night. "I must go Erulissë. Is there anything you require before I go? Another box . . . a couch perhaps?" He added that last part sarcastically, glancing back toward her empty den to emphasize his point. "You truly should consider some type of seating in the near future."

That green eyed stare was insistent, and Grace finally shook her head in acceptance. "Ok Nuada, I promise I'll buy a couch for you to sit on before next Thursday."

Her answer was more sarcastic that his question, but Nuada was obviously pleased by it anyway and he had a very pleasant smile, when he spoke again. "Very Good! I shall look forward to sitting on it when I return."

Turning to leave, Nuada took her hand into his, kissing it gently before bidding her goodnight. "Namárië Erulissë." He told her softly, before heading for the Jag shimmering in the darkness.

Grace was smiling at him when she closed the door, but tears filled her eyes as she stood at the window and watched that Jaguar softly purred it's way back out of her driveway. Turning away, she slowly started emptying the bags. _I wonder where he's going,_ was all she could think as she carefully put her things away.

That first week had been a very long one for Grace, and even though Sookie had faithfully come over to help, Grace had unpacked boxes and shopped until she was ready to snap. Thankfully, she'd covered the basics. Shopping for nonessential items would be transferred out of the store and onto her computer. Those people in the big brown trucks could bring it to her just as easily as she could go get it.

Unfortunately, as many things as Grace could click and ship, a couch just wasn't one of them. As promised, she made her way into the nearest furniture store prior to Nuada's Thursday visit. She had been surprised to find exactly what she wanted, and thankfully it had been on sale. It still pained her deeply when she wrote that huge check, but she'd been thrilled when the delivery truck arrived loaded with her new den furniture.

The beautifully detailed couch, loveseat and club chair were from their new Country Garden Collection and they were perfect to Grace in every way. Overstuffed and extremely plump looking, they featured a comfortable mix of dark red, green and cream stripes and florals on a soft yellow background. The red floral part was what caught her attention first. For some reason, those red flowers in that fabric reminded her of that red flower she shared with Haldir, and she'd just stood there for the longest time, staring at them. Grace didn't know why but Haldir was on her mind relentlessly of late. Seemed out of sight did equate to out of mind, because being away from Nuada had freed her mind to explore other things, and it seemed like it wanted to explore Haldir in the worst possible way.

That living room set had a lot more going for it that red flowers, and there was no surprise Grace wanted it. There was beautiful vermicille quilted pattern on the seats, and in addition to the other pieces was an adorable big fat, round ottoman. It served absolutely no purpose, and in some sick little way it reminded her of Trey – Grace needed no other excuse, she just wanted it.

To complete the look, she chose painted cream colored end tables, and a matching trunk, all with a distressed finish that gave them appearance of antiques. Before she left the store, Grace browsed the clearance section, surprised to find a huge television armoire in a painted finish very similar to the tables. It had a gouge on the bottom, and they'd reduced it to nearly half its original price. Grace couldn't care less about the gouge, and she had a new television at home that was sitting in the middle of the floor. Yep, she'd take it. Two nice strong men delivered it all that very afternoon, and after a few sweet smiles thrown their way, they'd even been nice enough to help Grace put that new TV inside the armoire.

The new furniture pleased Grace immensely, but that was about the only thing pleasing her when Thursday rolled around. Trey called early that morning. Grace was thrilled to hear his voice, but less enthusiastic about his words. Trey Lockhardt wanted to know when she could make her way to the shop for those new blue flames, and he had another important question too. For the past two years, she'd spent the second week of May with Trey in Myrtle Beach for Bike Week. Was she coming this year? Grace had no answers. The very thought made her want to throw up, but she'd have to talk to Nuada first . . . ask that fucking babysitter of hers for permission . . . and that certainly did not make her happy.

Grace wasn't happy anyway. Since she watched that black Jaguar pull out of her driveway, she hadn't heard one word from that aforementioned babysitter, and she'd been staring at those damn red flowers thinking about Haldir until she was ready to explode – both of her supernatural male cohorts were firmly on her shit list. When her telephone rang again, and the bubbly voice of her beautiful blonde cousin came floating across the line, Grace wasn't able to stay quiet about it either.

"The last time Haldir and I had a fight, he came and apologized. I haven't heard one word and it's been weeks. I know he's not that much of a cold hearted ass . . . there has to be a reason." Grace never intended for Sookie to know what Haldir did to her in retaliation for that blocking spell, so she was very careful with her questions, simply mentioning an argument – nothing more.

"I don't know what to tell you sweetie." Sookie told her cousin. "There could be something to it, or maybe he just thinks it's better to stay away. Ya'll have put each other through a lot." Sookie's mind went back to the way Haldir lovingly held Grace in his arms and used his mouth to put that blood in hers . . . yeah, they'd been through a lot alright!

"Well I've got to find out what this whole hot, cold thing is whether he wants to apologize or not. It's driving me crazy and I know he's the one doing it." Grace was insistent. She wasn't going to give up until she talked to Haldir, and Sookie was slowly realizing that.

"Grace, you better be very careful if talk to that man again. Every time you two go near each other you get the crap beat out of you. If it happens again, you know Nuada is going to go crazy. I just wouldn't do that if I was you." Sookie was trying to gently caution her cousin, praying she'd listen. Eric told her bits and pieces of Nuada and his feelings about Haldir, and Sookie had a pretty good idea what was gonna happen if he found out Grace talked to Haldir again.

Positive warnings instead of advise was all Sookie was going to offer about Haldir, Grace turned the conversation toward the second topic burning her brain, and she told Sookie about Trey and his questions. "Do you think Nuada would mind if I went to South Carolina for a week with Trey?"

On the other end of that phone, Sookie Stackhouse cringed. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, Grace seemed determined she was gonna start something with Nuada one way or another! Why couldn't she just go to dinner with him and talk about the weather?

""Grace, that's between the two of you. I know how he acted when you left and stayed in the hotel, and it wasn't a good thing. I wouldn't expect a lot from Nuada on that one . . . maybe he could go with you?" Sookie's suggestion made Grace blanch, and she immediately turned the conversation toward other things. Finally they hung up after making arrangements to meet for lunch the following day.

Still holding the phone in her hand, Grace was more agitated that ever. She had questions and dammit she wanted answers. Nuada was coming over that night, so she knew she could talk to him about Trey's questions then . . . but what about the rest of it? What about Haldir? Flipping the phone open and closed, she repeated the motion what must have been a dozen times in pure disgust before an idea came to her . . . somebody, somewhere was going to tell her what the hell was going on with Haldir.

Cairbre might have helped Grace move boxes and furniture, but after seeing her stand up to Haldir and his brothers in that arena not long after destroying his office, that poor silver haired elf was scared shitless of her. The chill in her voice left little doubt Grace was not pleased when she called, and poor Cairbre nearly peed his pants when he heard it, praying the little human chose to stay in her white house on the other side of town and not pay him another visit. His apprehension only built as she began speaking, and he nearly shit himself when he heard her final question. What the hell was going on with Haldir, and just how did he keep making her go cold all over? Cairbre stammered and stuttered without saying one word, and Grace finally just hung up on him.

That conversation was the cherry on top of her mood, and she sat right there for the rest of the afternoon. The longer she sat and stared at those red flowers, and the more times she flipped that phone open and closed, the more she obsessed about Haldir and Trey's phone call, and the madder she got. By the time Nuada showed up that evening, she was ready to kill someone with her bare hands.

As gorgeous as he'd ever been, Nuada knew from the expression on her face something was terribly wrong as soon as those glowing green eyes met her flaming grey ones. And at that point, they were flaming . . . Grace was actually flickering softly as she sat there, and Nuada wondered what on earth had happened. Nothing happened, but then that was the problem.

"Erulissë," he began uncertainly, "what is upsetting you?" Nuada was easing into the room, knowing how Grace's temper could flare, hoping this was not going to turn into an argument or worse. He hoped like hell he didn't do something wrong!

"You gonna get pissed off if I ask you a few questions?" Grace asked in a harsh, cold tone and Nuada knew right then, there was an excellent chance he was.

"I make no promises, but please ask your questions." He told her cautiously. Waves of anger were rolling across that room, and Nuada could clearly feel them. They weren't as bad as the night in the warehouse, but they were getting pretty close.

Leveling a flat, demanding stare across that room Grace asked her first one. "Trey Lockhardt called me this morning. He's got the new decals ready for my truck. Wants to know when I'm coming to have them put on . . ."

Slipping farther into the room, Nuada chose to stay on the far side away from her, leaning against the new armoire. Her new furniture was very nice, but he knew that compliment was better saved for another time. If he mentioned it right now, he'd probably get a piece thrown at him. Her words only slightly surprised Nuada. He'd been expecting this conversation ever since Trey Lockhardt drove away from Sookie's house on Christmas night. Watching Grace twist her hands in agitation, Nuada knew that first little tidbit was absolutely not the entire story . . . she was upset about a whole lot more than truck decals.

"What else Erulissë. . . does Mr. Lockhardt wish something else of you?" he asked gently. It took Grace a minute to answer Nuada, and he knew she was trying to find the best way to say whatever it was.

"Trey asked me if I was coming to South Carolina for Bike Week this year. I've gone with him the past two years, and he expects me to come again." She answered flatly, her eyes absolutely daring Nuada to tell her she couldn't go.

Glancing around the room, that gorgeous blond thing leaning against her new cream colored armoire took stock of everything within Grace's reach she could throw at him. This was probably gonna hurt, and Nuada knew it. "I would be more than happy to escort you to Trey's place of business to have work performed on your vehicle, however, I do not feel it would be . . . appropriate . . . for you to spend a week with him in South Carolina at the present time." Nuada didn't outwardly cringe when he said it, but inside he was . . . Grace had been doing so well, he sure hoped this didn't ruin it all.

Grace didn't say one word. The only indication she even heard his words was the fact that the blue of the flickers tracing under her skin darkened. Passing him a quick look, Grace saw that Nuada was just staring at her, eyebrows raised, waiting for her to speak. She knew herself well enough to know she was about to completely lose her temper, and Grace really didn't want to destroy her new den furniture . . . better to take a little time out.

"Have a seat." She finally told him in a strange, strained voice. "This conversation is not over."

Passing him a scathing glare as he obligingly crossed the room and sat down on the new couch, Grace headed for the kitchen. Leaning on the counter, she fought for control, fought against the urge to walk back into that den and strangle Nuada to death right on top of those fucking red flowers. Finally, she decided a drink might help, retrieving a Diet Coke from the fridge before heading for the corner pantry. She'd hidden a liter of Smirnoff in the very back, and dropping a few ice cubes into a cut crystal tumbler, mixed herself a good stiff one. Not satisfied, she pulled out the nearest drawer. There was a pack of Salem Lights in there for just such an occasion. Walking back in the den, she ever so carefully put that glass down on her new end table, and peeled the wrapper off that pack of cigarettes.

Looking from the cigarette pack to the obvious liquor the glass she was holding, Nuada knew Grace was beyond a shadow of a doubt the most impossible little creature he'd ever had to deal with in his entire life. Watching her pull that first white stick of tobacco out of the pack and light it with her fingertip, he knew this conversation was going to end badly, no matter what words came out of his mouth.

"Erulissë, you listen to me," Nuada told her firmly, "those disgusting things will be placed in the trash this very moment, or I shall not say one more word. Now!" He was seriously raising his voice, and Grace was slightly surprised. Never knew Mr. Healthy over there had such a hard on about cigarettes.

Taking the deepest drag imaginable from the one between her fingers, Grace blew the smoke back out of her nose. What the hell was he gonna do about it? Noticing the look on Nuada's face, Grace quickly figured out he intended to do a whole lot about it, so she decided it was probably in her better interest to take his not so polite suggestion. Holding out the palm of her hand, she sat right there and stared him down while she dissolved the entire pack into dust, then blew it out of hand in his direction. Taking one more extremely satisfying deep lung draw, she fried what remained of the cigarette she'd lighted, all while looking at him like she sincerely wanted to kill him where he sat.

Not the least bit impressed, Nuada just stared right back. "What is in that glass?" he demanded, watching her turn her efforts away from the now long gone tobacco to the glass in her hand.

Just finishing a gulp that nearly emptied it, Grace have him a sarcastic half-smile over the rim. "It's a happy coke."

"Well, I would certainly be surprised if it makes you happy." He told her sincerely, knowing his words certainly hadn't. Settling back into the extremely soft cushions, he tried to reason with Grace. "Erulissë, I have tried to explain these things to you before. It is simply too dangerous that you leave this area. You have a very . . . unusual effect on many creatures. To remain safe, you need to remain here."

"You said I had to live here, you didn't say shit about me never getting to leave again! And what the hell is this escort BS? If I go, you go?" Grace snapped back, pure venom in her voice that time.

Watching Grace sit in that chair, Nuada honestly didn't know how to make her understand the situation. He was here, Eric was here, Niall and Elrond's offices were here, and thanks to Alcide Herveaux she was even known to the werewolves in this area. Grace was safe in Shreveport, but anything could happen if she left. It would not be difficult to watch over her for a controlled trip to a place of business in another state if he was with her, but to allow Grace to mingle with hundreds, thousands of other people many of whom would undoubtedly be supernatural beings was unthinkable. At least for now, it was never going to happen.

Frowning deeply, Nuada still had the odd feeling Trey's questions weren't all that was bothering her, and he was almost scared to ask what actually was. "What else Erulissë? I am positive there is more to this mood I have discovered you in than Trey Lockhardt's inquiries as to your visiting."

Mood. That was one descriptive word for it – Bitch Mode would have been a much better one. Leveling a gaze that would have frozen running water across her new cream colored trunk table at him, Grace thought about Nuada's question for a minute. Cairbre sure as hell didn't tell her anything about Haldir, so why not just ask the man she was pretty sure was responsible for his absence directly!

"You want to know what's bothering me? I'll tell you - I want to know why Haldir hasn't apologized to me over that damn blocking spell. After we fought in the marchwarden camp, he came and apologized, but this time he hasn't and that's not like him and I want to know why. Did you do something to him? Have you threatened him again? Told him to stay away from me?" Ok, it wasn't one question, but they were related. Her tone was nasty, accusing and hateful and it just burnt Nuada up. Watching every bit of color drain out of his face, only to be replaced by a very slight red flush of fury, Grace knew her questions did not impress her guardian any more than his earlier answers impressed her. Nope, not one little bit.

"I was not aware Haldir came and apologized to you earlier Erulissë." Nuada said in a very strange voice. His gaze had turned toward the floor, and Grace knew his demeanor was deteriorating by the moment. "Would you like to share with me when that took place?"

When those emerald green eyes lifted from that floor, they were on fire with enough anger to burn Grace's soul out of her body. She should have kept her mouth shut, and she sure as hell didn't want to answer his question, but the look on her face was telling Grace she better start talking or he was going to make her. "He came by the hotel one night." She answered as vaguely as possible, but that certainly did not satisfy Nuada. He wanted specifics – details – a written transcript of every last word that was spoken.

Those raised eyebrows, crossed arms and thin lips were just reeking of pure revulsion at Haldir's name, and as Nuada glared at her across that den, Grace knew he was debating coming across that den and grabbing hold of her for another little repeat of their infamous kitchen mind rape . . . but if he did, she intended to fry his fucking ass.

"Just how many times did that elf come see you at the hotel Erulissë?" Nuada growled out, his tone hinting that he was dangerously close to reaching his patience threshold.

"Twice." Grace answered firmly, her expression daring him to ask her any details of either one.

Nuada slowly leaned forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees as he contemplated her. His face suddenly looked every bit as vicious as he did that first time she ever met him on that balcony - pure violence and destruction in the form of a man sitting there staring back at her. It was not a good thing. "I believe it would be in your better interest to forget that elf ever existed Erulissë." He told her quietly. Nuada's voice might had been even and devoid of emotion at that very second, but the lightening popping in those eyes told her exactly what he really wanted to say.

Can't go see Trey with a babysitter, can't go to bike week, can't see Haldir, can't talk about Haldir – it was a whole string of can't have what you want, and it was getting the better of Grace. She was literally flaming she was so angry as she stared back at him. "I believe that elf owes me an apology, and I believe it's my decision if I want to hear it or not." Grace answered sarcastically, mocking his words back at him. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Well, hell no Nuada wouldn't agree, and that was one of the stupidest questions Grace had ever asked. Nuada was just pulling himself off that couch to come drag her out of that new club chair, when somewhere in a different world, Haldir put that damn ring on again, and if Grace hadn't been sitting down, she would've fallen down. Every time he did it, the feeling got stronger, and Grace clutched her chest and gasped for air loud enough for Nuada to hear her even though he was a good twelve feet away.

Now Nuada was coming toward her for an entirely different reason, sinking to sit in front of Grace on that ottoman, wondering what on earth was wrong. It really was bad that time, and Grace threw the feeling all the way to Bon Temps and it hit Sookie hard enough to make her drop an entire tray of food and glasses, making her own cousin clutch a chair for support. Grace was sure clutching her chair, she went as pale as a piece of paper and she was shaking like a leaf, fighting for every whiff of air she could struggle to draw in. Her blood felt so frozen her heart could barely pump it.

Sitting in front of her, Nuada had no idea what was wrong. He felt nothing. His aura was bound to Grace, but unless he was touching her, he only felt her emotions, not her physical pain. Nuada could not feel her blood freezing in her very veins the way Sookie could – their bond was of a different type. Even reaching out with his mind, he had no idea what was happening to her.

"If this keeps on, I'm gonna die." Grace managed to whisper, and when Nuada placed his hands on her knees, he wondered if he would too. Her aura grabbed hold of his, blue flames instantly running over him as her body instinctively drew strength from him, desperately trying to protect itself against the strange sensations it was being bombarded with.

Nuada suddenly felt the same as Grace, as if ice flowed through his very veins. It was numbing, and thankfully, Haldir took the damn thing off again and just as quickly as it came, the sensation was gone again. It took Nuada a minute to recover, but it took Grace a whole lot longer and in Bon Temps, Sam wondered if Sookie was going to die. She'd managed to get into the chair, but she was pale and shaking so bad, he wondered if he needed to send her home. Soon enough, the feelings passed, but both cousins were left shaken. Haldir absolutely had to stop with that damn ring!

Seeing the darkening circles under her eyes, and the pale cast under her tanned skin, Nuada didn't budge from Grace's side for the rest of the night. Conversations were forgotten as he sat with her, carefully watching and waiting, although thankfully it did not happen again. Grace didn't walk him to the door that night, he tucked her into bed instead, lingering after he cut the light off and kissed her forehead goodnight. Positive Grace would refuse, Nuada didn't offer to stay the night, although he was very pleased by the way she clung to his hand as she lay against that pillow. When her grip eased, Nuada knew she was asleep, and he very reluctantly left.

Deeply disturbed, Nuada knew when he climbed into that Jaguar and headed across town. Haldir had obviously found some way to manipulate the bond he shared with Grace. Unfortunately, that manipulation was torturing her, and the only real solution was to break it completely. When Nuada first became Grace's guardian he'd gone along with the ritual somewhat unwillingly at first, but he'd fought Niall wildly over her being bestowed with her grandfather's essence as of late. The nightmares haunted her, and he'd sensed a growing sense of peace in Grace since they stopped. After he nearly killed her, the last thing Nuada wanted was to subject her to anything else that might harm her, and after seeing her last few exhibitions, Nuada knew Grace was strong enough already – lifting Eric's car, making it snow, actually holding her own against Haldir in that marchwarden's camp – Grace's power had already increased dramatically and if she received more of her grandfather's essence and lost control, she might kill them all.

Powerful and dangerous or not, Grace wasn't going to be able to withstand a whole lot more of what he saw tonight, so with the most reluctance possible, Nuada closed his eyes, once again making a mental demand before heading for the wet bar on the far side of that den. The last time these two had this conversation it was in Los Angeles, this time it would be in Shreveport, and the Crown Royal was just slipping down his throat when Nuada turned to face Lord Niall.

The powerful Fairy Lord was not aware of Nuada's visit to see Haldir, and Nuada was not aware of Niall's visit to see Elrond. They had much to discuss, and discuss it they did for the next several hours. Nuada could not believe how drastically his position had changed since they had this first conversation, when he stood and screamed into Lord Niall's face how much he hated the idea of being saddled with that damn human woman and her care. Nuada was as desperate now to save Grace as he'd been then to get rid of her, and as much as he hated it, when the two powerful entities bid each other farewell, it was with the knowledge that her nightmares would resume.


	31. Officially Friends

Chapter 31 – Officially Friends

Resuming was something Grace herself was fighting to do . . . fighting to resume her life. Thankfully, as week after week rolled by, it was a fight Grace began to win. Ever so slowly, a pattern began to emerge as Grace settled herself back into the routine of a normal life. She had a house now. There were errands to run, bills to pay, things to take care of, and work to do. Soon, her life in Shreveport became very much like it had been in South Carolina.

Keeping her promise from the engagement party, she'd called Alcide Herveaux. His company was actually quite busy, and he had as much drafting work as Grace was willing to do, and she'd readily agreed. The money had nothing to do with it, but the distraction it offered certainly did. Grace was desperate for her mind to be occupied so she couldn't obsess about Haldir and Nuada less she lose it completely. Soon there were more days than not when she was at the computer twelve to fifteen hours or more, hardly stopping to eat, and her small circle of friends began to worry desperately for her.

Along with her agreement to work with Alcide, came a renewed promise to work on Eric' home, and Grace devoted herself to it like no other she'd ever worked on before. She spent endless hours pouring over catalogs and magazines, selecting things and making little folders for Sookie to look through. They agreed Sookie was still not to know the truth about the house, and Nuada's gentle mental massage kept that information safely hidden from her cousin as work progressed.

Eric might have been worried about the hours she worked, but he was utterly thrilled with the results, and so was Alcide. Grace was actually pretty thrilled herself. With all that work, she'd be able to keep her mind completely occupied and off of these two damn men that tormented her, and she wanted to stop thinking about them more than anything else in the world, or at least she thought she did.

House plans weren't the only thing Grace found herself drafting, as she tried to draft a plan to use her unique gifts as well. She made a point to hold open the door for the elderly woman at the post office, gently patting her shoulder as she passed to ease the pain of arthritis that tormented her, comforting the sick child in the grocery store when their mother looked away, mending the wing of the butterfly she found fallen in her driveway. It wasn't a lot, but it did make Grace feel useful, and while her ability to heal was limited, her ability to move things was not.

It took a while, but after several weeks, Grace could stand at the kitchen sink and lift that Cadillac several inches off the pavement, turn it around and gently sit it back down. She had good distance, and she was developing excellent control. As Grace sat at her computer desk hour after hour, she'd randomly move things around the room, working to see how many items she could handle at one time. Currently she was past a dozen, and she couldn't wait to see how far she could go.

And speaking of going, it wasn't something Grace did very often considering all she had going on. That changed slightly when Grace started going to see Nuada every Sunday afternoon. After watching her grimace while crawling out of that office chair one time too many after sitting there all day, he'd insisted on renewed visits to that third floor gym, obviously enjoying his torturous stretching of her body over that damn ball she'd grown to despise. Content to retaliate with some torture of her own, Grace always made sure to wear a shirt that was sure to creep up so he'd have to stare at that little dancing dolphin while she did it, so in some strange way, they were even.

Nuada wasn't the only one insisting either. Cairbre insisted Grace continue to drink that strange herbal tea, and he made sure she was kept well supplied, never missing the opportunity to shove a mug in her hand each and every time he stopped by to visit. As much as Grace didn't like either, both the gym visits and that strange tea worked wonders on her body, and it wasn't long before Grace felt better than she had in years, physically anyway.

Mental control and physical well being did not equal emotional stability, and there were many days Grace struggled. Nuada flatly refused to tell Grace what happened during that two day mental blank she held, and that refusal was a big problem for Grace. She flatly refused to tell Nuada how much she missed him or how tortured she was by what Lord Elrond told her about elves and mortals, and that little jewel was providing the biggest problem of all.

Nuada burned at the very thought of possessing Grace again, and he prayed every night she would tell him what prized piece of information kept her away from him, but Grace never did. It was carefully tucked into a very selective little section of hidden memories in Grace's mind that even Nuada could not touch. That carefully sequestered knowledge was affected his relationship with Grace in a very fundamental way, and it infuriated that creature to no end. There were very few who possessed the power to do such a thing, and while Nuada could not verify who did it, he could certainly narrow it down. That only firmed his resolve to find out, and he made the solemn vow to himself, that when he did, the entity responsible was going to be very, very sorry.

Regardless of what they hid from one another, Grace found herself more and more excited to see Nuada as each Sunday and Thursday rolled around. She'd been determined to restore their friendship, and they had, but while she was polite and gracious, Grace carefully guarded her heart. There could be nothing more than friendship – her heart had suffered enough, and the knowledge that she was mortal and Nuada would inevitably walk away from her was enough incentive to force herself to deny the feelings for him that built within her each and every day.

Nuada was pleased that they were friends again himself, but he was being forced to start all over with Grace - rebuild her trust, regain her confidence, wait for that iceberg to melt all over again. Nuada did not know the specific reason for the coolness that came over her, and while he struggled desperately to make amends, she never allowed it. It frustrated him to no end, and so did other things. Nuada hated Haldir of Lorien to an infinite level, and if he hadn't suspected that Grace would need his blood again before that damn ritual was complete, he would have instantly killed the marchwarden general. Haldir owed his life to Grace, and he didn't even know it.

Haldir also didn't know what that damn ring did to her every time it touched his finger, and thankfully he kept it securely tucked away the majority of the time. There were a few brief moments of coldness, but they passed quickly enough. Unfortunately, they were still enough to keep Grace obsessing about Haldir, and the more she thought of him, the more he thought of her. By staring at those damn red flowers and twirling that pendant in her hand, Grace was actually making the situation much worse without even knowing it. Something had to change, and finally one day, it did.

Grace's morning had started early and poorly. There were a few warmer days sneaking into Louisiana in mid-February, and she planned to take advantage by painting the doors of her bathroom cabinet under the garage. She'd started around nine o'clock, suffering from a ridiculous headache thanks to the nightmare she had last night, and was in a bit of a fog as she stood in her garage. Nuada's voice startled her so badly, she knocked over the entire paint can and Grace found herself even more stunned when she actually turned around and looked at him.

Nuada had been in Shreveport over four and a half months, during which his business interests in Los Angeles had been sorely neglected. There were extremely important things he needed to tend to, and now that Grace was finally settling down, he simply had to address them. At some point, Nuada would have to make a decision regarding the permanent handling of his affairs in one office, but that day had not yet come. For today, Nuada would be out of town and unreachable, and he was concerned. Nuada had a very bad feeling about today, and when Nuada got bad feelings, it was never a good thing. Bad or good, he sure as hell looked good, his attire somewhat different for important business meetings in Los Angeles than Shreveport, and Grace felt her knees go weak when she turned around.

"Mother of God." Grace whispered under her breath when she turned around, simultaneously stunned by the paint can that just landed on her foot and the image of Nuada standing in front of her. While her foot might be broken, she felt like her jaw was going to be after it dropped open as her eyes ran over him.

"Are you alright Erulissë? I apologize, I did not mean to startle you." His voice was gentle, that strange accent against the cool morning air beautiful, just like him. And holy hell was he ever beautiful that morning.

Running her eyes over him, Grace's honesty meter was running overtime right along with her mouth for some unknown reason. "Oh, I'm startled alright." She told him in a strange voice, her eyes ravaging every inch of that damn perfect body encased in that dark pinstriped suit, perfect cream colored shirt, and deep red tie. 'God damn you look good." It was out of her mouth before she even realized it, and Grace couldn't even clamp her hand over her mouth to shut herself up because there was too much paint on it. It ranked right up there with her horny comment behind Fangtasia that night, and Grace regretted it the instant that huge smile came across his face.

"Thank you for approving of my appearance." He told her smugly.

That conceited bastard would be smiling for the rest of the day, and Grace knew it. "Glad I could help." She told him sarcastically, glancing down to watch the paint splatters slowly run down her leg and pool into her shoes. "I'm just loving what you did for mine too."

Laughing ever so softly to himself, Nuada took a cautious step closer. "I will be out of town today Erulissë. Is Sookie still coming over to spend the day?"

"I guess." Grace answered, impatiently grabbing a handful of rags and starting to wipe some of the paint off herself. It was only making it worse, and soon she looked like a little human zebra slipping her shoes off standing in that damn garage.

"I worry Erulissë." Nuada told her more firmly. "I have promised you would never be alone. I do not like to leave you."

That didn't get the warm cozy response he was hoping for, but it sure did draw some beautiful light blue flickers of anger from under her skin so now Grace looked like a zebra painted smurf standing in her garage early in the morning. "What?" she snapped, and Nuada suddenly sensed he was in danger of looking just like Grace did in a minute. He was right.

Taking a menacing step closer, Grace simply glared at him across that concrete driveway. "There's a big damn difference between leaving someone and just going somewhere for the day, unless I missed something. Just where the hell are you going?"

Nuada didn't honestly look like he wanted to answer that, and Grace got madder than hell then, slapping those hands right on her hips as she stared at him. "You gonna tell me, or is it a fucking secret?"

"I have no secrets from you Erulissë." He lied. "I am going to Los Angeles. There are important things I must attend to." His voice sounded funny what he answered her, and Grace's expression told him she was less than impressed with that information, although he had no idea why. Every bit of color drained right out of her, and as he watched, her face transformed from slight irritation to out and out rage, and he was left wondering what he said wrong.

"Mmmm Hmmm." It was angry and dismissive, sarcastically delivered to perfection and Grace turned right around and ignored him after she did it, instead choosing to focus on the paint that was now beginning to dry on her concrete garage floor.

"Erulissë?" Nuada prodded, knowing it was not safe to get any closer.

Continuing to ignore him, Grace began to sop up the paint on the floor, refusing to look up until he finally relented and came to stand a few feet from her, that intent stare telling her he expected some type of response. "Thought you were leaving." Grace growled out, only confusing Nuada that much more.

"What has upset you now Erulissë?" he asked impatiently, glancing at his watch. That was a first too, a Rolex to go along with the suit. Nice.

Raising herself from the floor, Grace headed for the corner, snatching the plastic garbage can across the floor so she could throw the paint soaked rags inside. It was gonna take a whole lot more than that to clean up the mess she'd made! Cussing under her breath, she headed toward the open overhead door, stopping right in front of Nuada to stare up at him coldly.

"Be sure to tell her hello." Grace spit out at him, and Nuada's felt his heart go numb. Too stunned to even speak for a moment, it took Nuada a second to recover.

"Erulissë, stop right this minute and listen to me!" he finally commanded, as she began to walk away. That wet paint was preventing him from grabbing her, and he didn't have any way to stop her at his disposal.

"Bite my fucking ass Nuada." Grace told him as she twirled around to face him. "You lied like a dog about the last time you went to Los Angeles, and don't think I've forgotten about you getting that big damn bite mark on your neck in Crash Mansion. I'll bet my life your little whore is just ready and willing to do it again."

Nuada was the one stunned that time. On the one hand he was thrilled because Grace was jealous as hell. It was literally falling off of her the same way that paint was. On the other hand, Grace was telling the truth and that was the very reason his voice sounded so odd earlier. Nuada was terrified of going back to Los Angeles today, wondering if he was capable of resisting the temptations he'd be faced with.

He'd be less than four blocks away from Crash Mansion while he sat in his office, knew it would be dark and they would be open by the time that very long and stressful string of meetings ended, was positive he'd want nothing more than a cold drink and some warm flesh pressed beneath his by that time. . . and if he'd been getting any from that damn irresistible little human woman covered in paint who was staring at him right then this trip wouldn't have been a problem, only it was a problem.

Nuada wanted Grace more than anything he'd ever wanted, but he was a creature of habit, a creature of want, a creature of need and those needs were not being met. His time with Grace had probably saved him close to fifty thousand dollars in fees to Crash Mansion, because when he was living in Los Angeles he'd been there almost every night, and most of them, he'd been in that private room with Serena for at least an hour or so.

Unfortunately, since Haldir's little hotel visit, Grace wouldn't even kiss him and his nerves were beginning to fray - actually they weren't beginning to fray, they were fucking fried. Just looking at Grace was enough to make his heart race – the delicious little human could not only make Nuada happy, he had no doubt she could certainly keep him that way . . . but she wasn't . . . the poontang was gone, and he needed it to come back. There had been no cootchie, no hootchie, no pussy . . . no touchie, no feelie, no doodle squat . . . not even the chance to caress the camel toe had been presented to him in weeks, and he was very close to his breaking point.

Some strange shade of pale green, Nuada's face was doing way more talking that his mouth ever could have, and Grace was reading him like a book. She'd surprised herself at how much the simple words "Los Angeles" coming out of his mouth had pissed her off, but seeing that damn soulful expression told her that she'd hit the nail square on the head, and she suddenly felt nauseous. Nuada had every intention of seeing whoever was in Los Angeles again today, she was positive of it.

The hatred Grace started throwing his way was enough to give even a powerful creature like Nuada the cold chills, and he was desperate to say something to make this better. Nuada fully admitted he was being tempted by the very thought of going to Los Angeles, but he hadn't even done anything yet, and besides it wasn't like he and Grace were in a relationship – or were they – hell, he didn't know what they were!

"Erulissë, please. I want you to stop and listen to me!" Nuada's voice was nearly frantic as he spoke, truly wanting Grace to stop and listen to him. She did stop walking away, turning to look at him, her face now carefully blank, refusing to let Nuada know how much the thought of him with another woman was hurting her.

Poor Nuada. The man was as overwhelmed in that moment as he'd ever been. He wanted to tell Grace how he felt about her, beg her on bended knee to come back to that damn apartment. Screw the meetings. He'd gladly throw her paint covered body on that garage floor and ravage her for hours, and instead he was incapable of saying one word. He simply stood there with the strangest look on his face, and he never managed to say one word.

The fact that Sookie walked up at that very moment didn't help one bit, and when she came to stand beside Grace, she wasn't sure what was going on. Grace was dripping with white paint, and Nuada looked like he'd just stepped off a page in a Ralph Lauren catalog, although that slight green tinge didn't quite complete the look. Together, the two cousins stood there staring at him with their arms crossed over their chests, just waiting to see if he'd ever actually say something. He didn't. He simply stood there, looking gorgeous with the morning sun glinting off that blonde hair in his perfect suit with his mouth clamped shut as he stared back at them.

"Seems Nuada is going to Los Angeles today." Grace told Sookie dryly.

Her eyebrows flew up over her eyes, but Sookie immediately narrowed them, pointedly staring at his neck when she did. Seemed Grace wasn't the only one who remembered his last trip there. "Bite mark." She said softly, and Grace just nodded. "Mmmm Hmmm."

"I have already explained that unfortunate situation, and I do not feel compelled to do it again." he growled out viciously.

"Well, if you don't feel compelled to do it again, prove it." Grace told him in her best sarcastic southern drawl. "When you get back tonight, stop by. Show me what you did or didn't do in Los Angeles. I dare you."

Nuada didn't say another word, just passed her a venomous stare then popped himself into oblivion.

"He's gonna see her." Sookie said quietly, and Grace just nodded. He sure was. And if Nuada was gonna go visiting, Grace intended to partake of some visiting of her own. Walking inside, she didn't even care about that paint on her hands when she grabbed her cell phone.

"You're playing with fire cousin." Sookie warned Grace after she hung up, shaking her head, knowing this was gonna be one hell of a day.

The duo gave up on painting after spending two hours scrubbing it off the garage floor, and Grace decided they'd hang some curtains instead. Sookie was standing across the room telling her up, no down, no up again and Grace was on a stepstool, trying desperately to hang on to the curtain rod and a cordless drill with a screw in her mouth without killing herself when she heard the familiar pop of a visitor. Seems she had company!

Unable to turn around, Grace wondered who it was exactly when she heard that strangled little "oh shit" come from Sookie somewhere behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she found Haldir of Lorien almost nose to nose with her and directly beside Sookie, Glorfindel was standing in full battle attire right down to that gigantic freaking sword. Ok – wasn't expecting that.

Flustered for a moment, Grace was incapable of saying anything unless she put something down or swallowed that screw and Haldir was so close she couldn't even get off the ladder. Reaching out a warm pale hand, that gorgeous elf ever so carefully took that screw out of Grace's mouth, somehow managing to caress her lips in the process and Grace nearly did fall off the stool.

"You wish to speak with me?" he asked softly, beautiful blue eyes dancing with humor at the sight of Grace still covered in what was now dried white paint.

Stunned by the overwhelming sight of that gorgeous elf right in her face, along with that alluring strange woodsy smell Haldir always had lingering on him, Grace couldn't even answer for a minute. Her eyes were torn somewhere between drowning in those blue depths and running over that tantalizingly close set of velvety rose colored lips. Damn. Maybe she was playing with fire.

Neither of them was capable of moving they were so enraptured by just looking at one another, and finally Glorfindel and Sookie had to intervene. "Hey! Hey!" Sookie's voice came cutting across the den. "Stop that right now!"

Glorfindel was already stepping closer to Haldir, putting a hand on his shoulder. This was why he was here, to control this strange situation. Bless his heart, it took him a minute, but Haldir did step back. Grace was struggling herself, but managed to get off the step stool without falling down and threw that curtain rod and drill down on the couch. Nervously brushing her hands off on her shorts, she looked up at Haldir. "I did want to see you Haldir, thank you for coming."

Walking through the den, Grace transformed into cordial host. "Can I get ya'll anything? We were about to get some lunch. You want something to drink?"

Her polite words drew an extremely strange stare from Glorfindel. The damn little human woman threatened to kill Cairbre if Haldir didn't come see Grace, and she simply wanted to feed them lunch? What the hell!

Haldir wasn't nearly so concerned. "Your home is quite nice." He told her politely. "Did you do all of this yourself?"

"Part of it, but I had a lot of help from my friends." Grace answered with a big smile toward Sookie. "Would you like to see the rest of it?"

"I believe I would." Haldir answered with a gentle smile, and Glorfindel and Sookie watched in complete disbelief as Grace began to tour that damn marchwarden around the house, casually pointing out various things in the house she particularly liked. Haldir gave Grace his full attention, surprised by how different she looked today than she had in Rivendell, than she had that night at dinner. Grace was finally healthy, and she seemed rather peaceful as she walked through the house. There was no makeup, no strange clothes, no fancy tousled hair. It was all just pure Grace, and he felt almost as if he was seeing her for the very first time.

"I am most impressed Grace." Haldir told her seriously. "You look extremely well, and I must admit, I have never imagined you tending a home this way." The beautiful elf was complimenting her, and he was being sincere.

Grace gave him a small smile. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me Haldir." He nodded agreement to that statement, and dutifully followed Grace as she led him toward the opposite end of the house.

Heading down the hall, Grace showed Haldir the two smaller bedrooms, trying in vain to explain what her computer was, then nearly panicked when she realized the only room left was her bedroom. Thankfully, the door was closed, but Haldir gave her a questioning look, staring at the closed door.

"That's my bedroom," Grace told him in a very strained voice, "I don't know that you want to see it."

"Of course I would." he answered, his blue eyes flashing, daring Grace to open that door.

Suddenly feeling all the breath leave her, Grace wondered if this was going to be the worst mistake of her life, but finally swung the door open and walked inside. Decorated in sharp contrast to the rest of the house, the walls were an unusual shade of blue that reminded her of his very eyes and while large in scale, her furniture was pale and subdued. All together it was an extremely tranquil and soothing space.

Everything else was done in bright shades of yellow and grass green with bright white trim and colorful red accents. There were bright pops of color everywhere, from her pictures to her painted dishes, to her throw pillows. The bedroom was completely opposite. Grace had found an unusual shade of blue that reminded her of his very eyes and had painted the bedroom walls that color. Her furniture was pale, and all together it was an extremely tranquil and soothing space.

Looking very much like someone in a museum staring at the paintings, Haldir slowly walked around the room, obviously interested in the various personal items Grace had placed around the room – her jewelry boxes, small trinkets she had collected over the years, even her memo board with various magazine clippings and quotes she had snipped out and stuck there.

A soft smile was touching his face until he turned back toward the bed. Suddenly he froze, a terrible frown coming over his face. "I owe you an apology Grace." He said in barely more than a whisper. His words were as soft as falling rain floating across that room, but they held as much meaning as the most powerful storm.

Leaning against her dresser, Grace had been watching Haldir, her arms crossed in front of her chest, praying he would get around to that. "Well, I'd sure like to hear it, but not in this room." she said softly, and turned away, walking back to the den.

Grace had been fine up to this point, but as she sank into the huge club chair, suddenly her hands began to shake and her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. Ever so slowly and carefully, Haldir sat down on the painted trunk in front of Grace, his sapphire blue eyes trained on the woman he knew he'd hurt terribly curled up in the chair across from him.

Haldir spoke to her softly, his voice so beautiful and melodic, just as it was in Rivendell those nights he'd held her close as they lay in bed together. "Grace, I am so sorry for what has happened between us . . . I can not find peace with the way I treated you. My lust and anger at being forced into this blood bond we share consumed me and I shall never forgive myself."

His voice sounded raw with pain, and even though Grace had dropped her eyes to study the floor, she knew he was terribly upset, not needing to see his face to feel his torment. "I pray to Valar that you might one day forgive me. I simply can not live knowing you must hate me now." His voice trembled with his last words, and Grace knew he meant them.

Lifting her eyes from the floor, Grace could see that Haldir was staring at her like a wounded animal. He was more devastated by what he'd done that she was. "I don't hate you Haldir." she told him quietly, her voice low and sincere. "Please don't ever think that I could hate you." Her grey eyes were darkening with emotion as she looked back at him. There was so much that needed to be said between them, and neither knew where to begin.

Haldir closed his eyes, steadying himself against that piercing gaze before he found his voice, "I can never be with you again Grace."

When the words hit her, Grace didn't know what to do. This was everything she wanted to hear from Haldir, and everything she didn't. Her heart immediately froze in her chest, her very brain coming to a complete stop as his words came over her. She looked to him, completely confused, her throat suddenly so tight she felt like she was being choked from the inside out.

"Is it because of what Lord Elrond told me? That elves can't love a mortal." she whispered back, barely able to make her lips form the words, her eyes already filling with tears.

Haldir frowned desperately, knowing his next words would hurt her terribly. "Lord Elrond's message was true. There have been rare occurrences, but elves are an immortal race . . . and they do not typically involve themselves in matters of love with a mortal," he explained to her quietly, his voice raw with emotion, his soul wounded and torn as he stood before her, "but this thing between us is not love. The bond we share is unnatural, some type of undeniable need. There was never any love between us."

When she heard what Haldir said, Grace felt as it someone just hit her over the head with a cinder block. Her mind flew back to their time in Rivendell, the way he held her, made her feel so wanted, so loved. "Haldir please don't say that . . ." was all her broken soul could manage, knowing deep down in her soul what he said was true, but hating the words no less.

Haldir watched her face crumble, feeling just as devastated by his words as Grace was, quickly easing from the trunk to kneel in front of her. Slowly he reached to her neck, pulling his pendant from her shirt and caressing it in his fingers. As he did, Grace felt her heart stop, knowing if he took the pendant from her she might very well die right there in that chair. Leaning over, he kissed it, lowering it against her chest and placing his hand over it gently.

The pendant had only left her neck for the briefest of moment since Haldir had placed it there, and while he had never explained to her what it meant, Grace somehow knew it was very important to him and she treasured it. Everyone had seen her wear it, but not one soul had never said one word to indicate it's value. And it certainly had value. What Grace wore around her neck was the sacred pendant of the Marchwardens. Only the General himself was allowed to wear it, and to give it to another was an honor like no other. It represented a promise of protection that extended throughout the elf realm and beyond. Not only would Haldir himself lay down his life for hers, but any and every Marchwarden under his command would do the same. It was the most sacred marchwarden symbol of devotion, and Grace had absolutely no idea.

"Never fear that I am with you always Grace. It may not be in flesh, but in spirit I shall always be with you. I care for you more than you will ever know and never doubt that should you need me I will answer," Haldir told her quietly, "but when I come to you, it must be as your friend, not as your lover."

Tears were burning in his eyes as her huge grey eyes silently begged him to reconsider his words, and it was breaking his heart. Gently Haldir reached for her, whispering to Grace softly in elven, trying to comfort her in some small way. Feeling overwhelmed by the pain pouring from her mind into his, Haldir caught her face in his hands, looking ever so deeply into her eyes. "Please Grace do not do this to either of us." He whispered, his throat so tight he could barely speak. "If you care for me at all, believe my words. We must break this bond that binds us."

Grace sat in her new chair covered by it's big red flowers and looked at the most beautiful man she had ever seen. As much as she didn't want to admit it, his words were true and she knew it.

"I believe you Haldir, but how . . . how can we ever undo what's been done to us? How can we ever change this?" Grace's voice grew cold with resentment as she realized just how much saving her had put Haldir through. She'd suffered tremendously since the night he first saved her, and she had not been alone.

He smiled at her gently, a small glint in his velvety blue eyes. "We shall fight this strange thing that possesses us, and we shall win – together, as friends." His expression was strained but gentle, and Grace knew he was struggling, knowing this was as difficult for him as it was for her. "I would very much like for us to be friends Grace."

Suddenly Grace's face creased into a terrible frown, remembering all the horrible things she'd done to Haldir. "Why would you want to be my friend after everything I've done to you?" she whispered, her voice quiet and fragile, and Haldir's eyes flew to hers.

"Never think to ask me such a thing!" Haldir blurted out angrily. "You were not to blame in any of this." Taking a moment to settle himself, he took a deep breath before continuing, his eyes soft as he looked over her tear stained face. "I am and always will be your friend. Call on me anytime, anywhere Grace and on my very life I will answer you." His voice was firm and forceful, and Grace knew he meant it.

Coming to his feet, Haldir pulled her up against him, crushing her against him in the tense silence of the afternoon, letting himself enjoy the lingering feeling of her warmth in his arms. Finally he kissed her on the forehead, squeezing her hands in his, he drew away from her, a look of quiet satisfaction on his face. "Come. We will join the others, and I will show you how we are to fight this thing."

Together, they made their way into the kitchen, slipping to sit with Glorfindel and Sookie at the kitchen table. It was one of the strangest foursomes you'd ever see, but considering everything that went on in these people's lives, it was just another normal day.

Sookie and Glorfindel had been very impatiently waiting for them to finish their conversation, and they'd both slipped down that hall more than once to peek into that den. Neither knew exactly what happened, but at least nothing got broken, and nobody started screaming. "You ok?" Sookie asked gently, seeing the tears still lingering on the face of her cousin.

"I'm fine." Grace answered firmly. "Haldir and I have agreed to be friends. We are going to fight this strange blood bond together, and he has found some way to do it."

The two girls watched closely as Haldir reached into a hidden pocket of that cloak and pulled out a slender golden ring, holding it in the palm of his hand to show to them. "Gandalf has placed a very powerful blocking spell on this ring. When I put it on, the bond is broken. We can no longer feel one another."

"That's it!" Grace suddenly exclaimed, scaring the others with her outburst. "That's what's been doing it!"

Frowning, Haldir looked at Grace uncertainly. "Doing what?"

"It must be the ring. I keep feeling my blood go cold." Grace told him excitedly, Sookie nodding her head in agreement. "But it's horrible. Please don't do it again."

Haldir really frowned then, and Glorfindel even became concerned. "Tell us Pinilyaer, what happens . . . how do you feel?" This had been his suggestion, so he felt somehow responsible for any negative consequences.

"I feel like I'm going to die." Grace started to explain, Sookie interrupting. "It's so bad I can even feel it along with her. It's the most terrible thing I've ever felt before."

Both elves were frowning terribly now. This was supposed to help, not hurt. "Perhaps if the human wore it, the result would be different." Glorfindel suggested.

Reluctantly, Haldir held the ring out to Grace, watching carefully as she took it from his hand. It looked harmless enough, and after she and Sookie looked over it for a minute, she slipped it onto her thumb. Grace didn't feel so bad, simply felt the slightest cooling sensation. Sookie on the other hand, nearly slid out of the chair. "Good god, take it off." She managed to whisper.

Haldir was much worse. He'd gone pale as a ghost, and even Glorfindel was becoming concerned as he studied the marchwarden in the chair beside him. "How do you feel Mellon nín? Saes, please tell me." He demanded.

So stunned by the feelings suddenly washing over his body, Haldir couldn't even answer for a moment. One hand was on his chest very much the way Grace had been before, struggling to breathe as his heart fought to push his blood through his veins. "As if a part of me has passed on . . . as if my blood has chilled, slowed in flowing." He finally managed to rasp out. "Most unpleasant."

"And you? Pinilyaer, what happens to you?" Glorfindel asked Sookie.

"I can't feel Grace anymore . . . It's like I've got a big hole in me when she's got it on." Sookie answered quietly, turning desperate eyes to Grace. She hated the way that felt, it was awful, and she never wanted to feel it again. Since Grace came into her life, Sookie felt this strange subliminal bond with her, an odd almost imperceptible warmth in her soul, a comfortable sense of belonging. That ring extinguished it, leaving her feeling alone and abandoned. She never wanted to feel that way again.

Everyone was frowning now, wondering if this ring was a good thing, or a terrible thing. Obviously, the one doing the wearing wasn't affected so badly by it, but the ones linked to them took it hard. "What if you leave it on longer? Will the feelings subside?" Glorfindel asked, turning his face to Grace, waving his hand in her direction, commanding her. "Replace it Pinilyaer, leave it for a time."

Looking from Sookie to Haldir uncertainly, Grace stared back at Glorfindel. She wasn't much on torturing either one of them, but she wasn't much on telling that damn lion in human form on the other side of that counter no either. Reluctantly, she slipped the ring back on. She'd only left it on for a second the first time, but this time, she left it there. As before, the color drained right out of Haldir's face, but he was prepared for it, so was Sookie. It took a minute, but they sat there and just went with the strange sensations, allowing themselves to adjust to it.

"Mae?" Glorfindel inquired. "Yes? Better?"

"A little, but still not pleasant." Haldir answered while Sookie nodded in agreement. Bearable, but certainly not her preference!

Not pleasant is certainly not the description Nuada would have chosen for what he was feeling. While the others were prepared to suddenly have their bond with Grace broken, he was certainly not, and it slammed into him like a freight train. Sitting in Los Angeles at the head of a massive conference table in a magnificent corner office surrounded by windows shimmering in the early afternoon sun, Nuada suddenly felt as if the sun itself reached inside and grabbed hold of him, cooking his very soul.

The first time was brief, just enough to make him catch his breath unexpectedly, causing a few glances in his direction from his associates. He'd gotten up and headed to the wet bar for a drink to settle himself when the second one hit, and it damn near dropped him to his knees. Lucky to have made it across the room, he caught the cabinets to actually keep from falling down. Roxy was there in an instant, her eyes searching his for some explanation, and he didn't have one. If his feeling was correct, the human woman he cared for so deeply just died because that was the only event he was aware of that could completely sever her connection with him.

Struggling to even breathe, he managed to make his way out of the conference room and into his own office, sinking into the nearest chair with his head in his hands wondering what the hell just happened. His aura was completely alone, abandoned, no longer touched by hers. Grace had to be dead, and his everything inside him was scrambling, screaming no at the top of its lungs . . . could she have been in a car accident again? Could someone have come after her and he was not there?

The stunned creature was fortunate to be sitting, because at that very moment, Grace took that ring back off and Nuada got the emotional equivalent of a brain orgasm. As every bit of Grace reconnected with him, her warmth washed over him like a tidal wave. Nuada could feel that wonderful little human in every molecule of his body from his hair to his toes, and it was the most unbelievable sensation he'd ever felt - ever.

It was just as unbelievable for Sookie and Haldir, so good in fact they were almost tempted to tell her to do it again. "You've got to stop doing that before I wet my pants." Sookie told Grace in a shaky voice. She had another case of frog eyes, her eyes stretched big very much like they were across that dinner table in the restaurant that night. Her hands were trembling it had gotten to her so bad, and Grace was wondering just what it felt like to be bonded to her ass – must be some good shit!

"Agreed." Haldir said firmly, although his voice was trembling oddly. He almost did something in his pants too, only it was a little different that what Sookie mentioned.

Nuada didn't feel quite that way, but he sure as hell had a case of the warm fuzzies in the worst possible way – he purely tingled all over, and that meant all over. He was muttering something under his breath in a language Roxy didn't understand when she peeked into his office, wondering if he was alright, coming to offer him a glass of water. Still stunned, he was sitting there staring at nothing as his mind worked frantically to figure out what the hell was happening to him. Suddenly his brain snapped it right into place, and those warm fuzzies got very, very hot. Grace was causing this. She was causing it, and she was causing it because she was with Haldir of Lorien!

While Nuada struggled to remain calm in Los Angeles, Glorfindel struggled to find some common ground for Haldir and Grace in Shreveport. Somehow they had to make this work, only he wasn't sure how to do it. "The effect seems less when Haldir has the ring, so he will keep it." He told them firmly, and Grace just frowned. Great! The others got all tingly, and all she got was ice in her veins. Life was simply not fair.

"He shall only use it when his feelings are the very worst so as to spare you discomfort Pinilyaer . . . but one of you must have it on at all times if you are together. Agreed?" That big golden head was trained in her direction, so Grace just nodded in agreement. Like anyone still living had ever told that damn elf no before!

"Fine, I suppose." Grace said – what else could she say?

Haldir's face showed that he was not happy with the results as he looked at Grace across the counter. His intentions were completely honorable in this, and he never meant to cause her any discomfort, but he was desperate for relief. He'd already stabbed his own brother because of her, and he'd very nearly stabbed her right through the face, not to mention the hotel episode. It simply could not continue. "Grace, are you positive this is acceptable?"

Turning to Sookie, Grace wanted her approval before she said yes. This involved her too. That pretty blonde head nodded – yes - this seemed to be the right thing for now. If it could keep Haldir and Grace away from one another, stave off any further outbursts, then yes, it was acceptable.

"Agreed." Grace told them firmly, and in that moment an accord was reached.

Haldir of Lorien and Grace from Shreveport were now officially friends - no more, no less. If the desire to go to her became overwhelming, Haldir would use the ring to stop himself so there would never be a repeat of the hotel room episode. Haldir cared enough about Grace to leave her in charge of the marchwarden's pendant, reaffirming his commitment to her life and her safety. He would sacrifice his very life for hers if it came to that, and before this was all over, that vow would be put to the test in ways he could not imagine.


	32. Carolina Customs

Chapter 32 – Carolina Customs

Grace was apprehensive after Haldir left her house that afternoon, but after she and Sookie sat and talked for a while, Grace began to realize while she wanted to believe what she shared with Haldir in Rivendell was true love, it fell firmly within the parameters of infatuation, and that was completely understandable. No human could have resisted that magnificent creature in that unbelievable environment in her vulnerable position – simply not possible. Grace could let her mind drift back to those memories when she needed a happy moment, but it was time to move on. Grace already knew deep down, she didn't love Haldir anyway . . . her heart was much too preoccupied with someone else, but Lord Elrond's words still haunted her and Haldir's only served to reinforce them.

 _"Lord Elrond's message was true. There have been rare occurrences, but elves are an immortal race . . . and they do not typically involve themselves in matters of love with a mortal."_

If they applied to Haldir, they applied to Nuada and that just sucked. Grace might be willing to let Haldir go, but Nuada was something different entirely. She wanted that damn man, and she honestly didn't know that she was capable of saying no even if he did intend to walk away one day. Sookie didn't help one bit either. "I believe!" Grace's pretty blonde cousin sounded like damn southern Baptist preacher on Sunday morning she said that so many times after Haldir and Glorfindel left that little white house. Sookie Stackhouse believed she would be with Eric Northman forever . . . she didn't know how, but she just knew it in her heart and if Grace believed, her and Nuada could too!

Grace gave those words an unbelievable amount of thought after her cousin left right around dark. Maybe Sookie was right . . . look at all the other unbelievable things that had happened . . . what's to say love couldn't prove Elrond's words wrong? Thinking about that, Grace made a decision. She didn't believe in the fairy tale ending Sookie did, but Grace believed she would allow herself to enjoy that fantastically beautiful man for as long as he'd let her. She would tell Nuada how much she missed him, she'd tell him how much she cared, see where this strange thing between them went.

Nearly bubbling with excitement, Grace got ready for bed, and she did not intend to sleep. She got out that beautiful coral colored babydoll nightie Nuada admired so much in that kitchen. He touched it with his eyes that night, so she'd give him the opportunity to touch it with anything he wanted tonight. The candles were lit, the soft music was playing, the drink was in her hand and all Grace needed now was for Nuada to come home from that business meeting in Los Angeles. That paint covered human had dared him to stop by that night, prove to her he didn't go to Crash Mansion . . . she cared for him and she was positive he cared for her even more. Surely he wouldn't have . . .

That clock was telling her he would have, and while the tears shining in her eyes were blurring the numbers, Grace knew if Nuada hadn't shown up by five o'clock in the morning he was most definitely not coming. It was Valentine's Day, had been since the second that clock flipped over to midnight, and Grace had hoped she'd start it off early with the man she loved. Too bad she didn't, but while her Valentines wasn't going as planned, deep in the Northern Wood, Haldir's was going exactly as planned.

***************************************

The nearby village was having their annual "Love Day" festival and the mood was bright and most pleasant as the large group of marchwardens made their way toward the great celebration hall late that evening. Never one to participate in such activities, Haldir would as usual find himself a quiet corner to observe, be sure none of his men had too much wine and got out of hand, then he'd make sure each and every one returned to the marchwarden camp as expected. His blood was on fire from seeing Grace the day before, burning as hot as it ever had but he refused to put that ring on. He didn't want to hurt Grace, and if that ring made her feel even remotely the way it made him feel, it border lined on cruel.

Unbeknownst to Haldir, he was being set up that evening. Haldir of Lorien was going to truly celebrate Love Day, he just didn't know it yet. Lord Elrond and Glorfindel were conspiring against him, and even his brothers were in on it. Haldir had suffered enough since Grace was introduced into his life, and they were determined to relieve his mental anguish one way or another. He was naturally a brooding type, capable of torturing himself over the simplest thing for years on end . . . and strange accord of friendship or not, Haldir might easily linger over thoughts of Grace for the next hundred years if left to his own devices, and that was not acceptable.

Lord Elrond meant his words to Haldir – if you cannot give your heart to another, then give your flesh – let another quench that fire burning in your veins. The elf lord knew the stoic warden never intended to do such a thing . . . Haldir of Lorien was Mr. Morals personified, and while he knew his men took more than their fair share of liberties with some of the village women, the pretty girls were always more than willing participants, eagerly waiting for those silver haired men in their strange cloaks to come calling. He'd personally never seen a woman who caught his interest, and certainly there was no elven female who looked remotely like Grace, but when he laid his hand inside Cerylia's that night, his heart threatened to stop beating.

Mahogany red hair flamed with as much heat as his blood, and Haldir found himself unbelievably enamored the very second she walked through the door. That mass of waist length waves that burned on her head stood out as that pale skinned beauty wove her way through the throng of elves crowding that hall, and Haldir followed her every step of the way. Cerylia was a stunningly beautiful creature, with flawless skin and gentle brown eyes. How was he to know she'd been sent there that night on an errand, a very specific one in fact?

Glorfindel himself approached the beautiful elven lady earlier that day. He'd been asking around. The golden warrior wanted to know who the most beautiful, the most eligible, the most desirable young lady in the village was. He sought a young lady who was worthy of the company of Haldir of Lorien, the General of the Marchwardens himself, and he found her.

Cerylia was shy, quiet and demure. She was very much of age, but never had she involved herself with men before . . . she was focused on her books, learning was more important that affections. Sewing and care of the home were duties to be properly learned and diligently performed, and to these she dedicated herself. It took all of Glorfindel's persuasion and something just short of a gentle threat to get Cerylia to agree to even attend the festival that night, but she reluctantly succumbed. Glorfindel himself would escort her to the door, provide her with a new dress if she required it, guarantee her an audience with Haldir.

No sooner did that name cross the lips of that golden haired warrior than every other female within earshot went weak in the knees and began to literally coo. If that red head didn't want to do, they sure as hell did! Glorfindel wasn't interested in those over eager giggling woman around Cerylia at that clothesline she was quietly hanging laundry on. Haldir didn't need that kind of company right now – he'd be out the door in seconds. What that extremely strained marchwarden general needed was to meet a steady, soothing female. Someone who was not overly anxious to put their hands on him, someone he might let his guard down around, someone that silver haired man might actually open up and talk to. No, Cerylia was just perfect. She was as dedicated to her duties as Haldir was, completely unconcerned with such frivolous things as attending a Love Celebration, most content with doing even the mundane task of laundry as perfectly as was possible.

Oh yes, Cerylia was perfect and Glorfindel was determined to make Haldir think so too. So determined in fact, he got a little help from Gandalf to be sure the unsuspecting marchwarden noticed her. It was a dirty trick, perhaps a little cruel, but even Lord Elrond went along. Haldir's obsession with Grace had to be broken, and if it took a not so gentle nudge, they'd gladly provide it. They didn't slam the poor thing with a love potion, but that tiny little bit of dust Glorfindel brushed on Cerylia's arm when he greeted her at the door was the mate to the sparkly powder he touched Haldir's hand with when he shook it earlier. They were guaranteed to talk if they didn't choose to do anything else!

When Glorfindel placed Cerylia's hand in Haldir's the sparks literally flew, many thanks to that sparkly powder, and while it might be morally objectionable, it worked none the less. For the first time in recent memory, Haldir didn't spend the night crammed in a corner talking to old married marchwardens of past nights spent on patrol. That beautiful creature spent it chatting brightly with a gorgeous unbetrothed red head. Haldir even danced with her a few times, and Glorfindel couldn't suppress a huge smile. That Gandalf was certainly a very talented man!

The two remained together for the entire evening, and Glorfindel shadowed them when Haldir walked her home. The magical powder was fading as the night drew to a close, and Haldir intended to bid her farewell at the door, but Glorfindel stood ready with a gentle nudge and a polite suggestion. He wanted Haldir to take up where that powder left off, and Haldir finally relented to his golden haired friend and did offer to walk Cerylia home, actually finding himself oddly pleased to know were she laid her head at night once he walked away. The soft whistle of a man enjoying pleasant thoughts played against the thick forest surrounding him as Haldir slowly returned to his talan that night, and Glorfindel enjoyed each and every note. Haldir would see the girl again, he was positive of it!

***************************************

"How was it friend?" Eric Northman asked, blue eyes bright with mischevious humor as he considered his friend over his office desk. "Did you have a good evening last night?"

Nuada was staring back at him like he'd lost his mind, his face creased in obvious confusion. "Of what do you refer Eric?" he asked somewhat impatiently.

The tiniest glimmer of concern flashed over Eric's face. "Valentines Day. I called and reminded you three times. The party last night was fantastic, but when we didn't see you and Grace, I assumed you decided to celebrate privately . . . wondered if you got around to breaking in the new Jag." His eyes were still dancing with humor, but they were about to stop.

Nuada's face was frozen as he looked back at Eric, and the ancient vampire was getting concerned, even taking his feet off the end of his desk to sit up and actually stare across that desk at his friend. He hadn't seen Nuada in several days, which was a little unusual, but then Sookie told him Nauda was going to Los Angeles. Maybe his business trip ran a little long.

"Where did you take Grace for Valentines Nuada? You did take her out . . . didn't you? Remember the whole dating thing we discussed or have you changed you mind about that?" Eric was almost frowning as bad as Nuada was now. Obviously there was another problem, and he thought all the problems were behind those two!

Sookie had been beaming when Eric saw her that night after she left Grace's house. Her cousin and Haldir were going to be friends – there would be no more fighting, no more hitting, no more arguments! That magical wizard she'd met in that strange alternate world found a way to block that blood bond. Her cousin was free to be with Nuada – her cousin wanted to be with Nuada - life was good! Or so it was supposed to be, and it would have been, if Nuada showed up that night. Unfortunately, he didn't.

"Erulissë and I have not spoken since my trip to Los Angeles. I believe she has been finding comfort in the company of another." Nuada finally managed to say, his face creased into an almost physical cringe as he imagined how he felt when those strange sensations washed over him in Los Angeles. Yes, Grace had been with Haldir!

"I assume you're referring to that elf Haldir?" Eric inquired not so politely, slowly shaking his head in disgust, he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers and placing his hands behind his head. Poor Eric. If this kept up, he was going to put a sign on his door offering counseling services for the lovelorn because this was this third one of these conversations he'd had this night! Damn, Valentine's Day caused some problems!

Those soft blue eyes were locked on his friend's fallen face when Eric asked his next question. "Would you like to know what happened, or would you rather take your head out of your ass and simply call Grace and ask her yourself?" His days of being gentle with these two were over. They were obviously nuts over each other – it was time to shit or get off the pot – they needed to get the hell on with it.

His words stunned Nuada. He wasn't expecting harsh words from his friend, and he honestly hadn't paid any attention whatsoever to the fact it was a human holiday, although those masses of flowers that kept showing up at the office should have been a huge indicator. He'd been in a stunned daze ever since his mental moment Grace and that ring gave him, and it certainly never occurred to him Eric Northman might know what happened between Grace and Haldir.

It took a moment before Nuada could collect himself to even answer. "What happened with Erulissë?" he asked in a strained tone.

"Oh I think Grace went out of town!" Logan exclaimed brightly, brushing past Eric's desk and rummaging through a stack of papers. He was intent on his searching, completely oblivious to the two sudden gut wrenching stares his back was receiving from the other two men in that office.

"Can I help you find something?" Eric finally half growled at him. The vampire wasn't particularly keen on people digging through his business papers, and he wanted an explanation for the words that just came out of his mouth.

Logan didn't even look up, just continued digging. "I hope so. Pam sent me . . . she's in the storeroom having a fit. Can't find the Captain Morgan, says the delivery truck shorted you five cases . . . I just walked in to tell her hello and she jumped all over me . . . wants that invoice right now . . . even threatened me if I didn't come find it for her, although I have no idea what it is I'm supposed to be finding."

Flipping around in that chair, Eric's eyes were riveted on Logan as he quickly snatched a paper out of a stack and held it in his hand. When Logan reached for it, Eric instantly pulled it back. "Not until you explain your comment. Where is Grace?"

"Gone to South Carolina to see Trey. Thought you'd know already . . . she's bringing me back a couple of books, even said she was having some Fangtasia decals made for you as a surprise . . ." his voice faded off, realizing it wasn't a surprise now, and also realizing the two men in that room were much less impressed with his information that he was. "Oops." He said softly. That blonde vampire was actually smiling as he stood there. Logan was excited about Grace and her trip! He wanted Trey Lockhardt to work on his truck!

Unfortunately, Nuada didn't give a shit about that vampire or his black Escalade. He had a look on his face that was pure damn scary, and he was already easing out of his chair when Eric quickly stood up instead. "When did Grace leave, and just how did you come to possess this interesting little piece of information?"

Logan started to answer, but quickly clamped his mouth shut again. He wasn't scared of anybody or anything, not even Nuada . . . maybe Grace didn't want them to know she left or why . . . he should have kept his mouth shut about more than those decals!

"I am waiting." Nuada growled out viciously, even causing Eric to give him an unsteady glance. That creature was fixing to snap.

"So am I Logan. Where and when? Now!" Eric demanded harshly.

Crossing his arms over his chest defensively, Logan blanked his face entirely. He indirectly answered to Eric only because he was younger, but he certainly wasn't one of Eric's little minions to be ordered around. Logan was one of the oldest and most powerful vampires in that territory, only being outranked by Eric himself and one other. He was not impressed at the way he was suddenly being treated!

"I am over five hundred years old, and I do not appreciate being ordered around like a damn child!" he hissed at Eric, shocking the shit out him. The local vampire sheriff didn't even have a chance to respond to his slight, Nuada did it for him.

"Well I am over five thousand years old, so indulge me." Nuada ground out, shocking the shit out of both of them. Two blonde haired vampires turned to stare at Nuada in complete amazement. They knew Nuada was pretty old, but damn – not that old!

"Really?" Eric asked with a strange expression.

"My patience is waning." Was the only answer they got, and both vampires could clearly see that no matter how old he was, Nuada was telling the truth. He was edging ever closer to the aforementioned snapping.

"Fine." Logan finally answered in a condescending tone. "I went by Grace's house yesterday evening to take her some flowers – from me – for Valentine's Day. Certainly didn't see any from anyone else!" He added sarcastically with a flat stare in Nuada's direction. Eric cleared his throat as a warning, and Logan quickly continued.

"It was probably eight-thirty or so when I got there, and Grace seemed upset . . . looked like she'd been crying maybe? I don't know that much about humans, but I could certainly tell she was displeased. Kept muttering about something called Crash Mansion whatever that means. I didn't pry. I simply gave her the flowers and wished her a pleasant holiday. When I left, I mentioned the party and asked if she would be coming along later. Grace said no. Said she was going to see Trey and that she'd bring me back some information for my truck."

Logan stopped talking and flat out glared at both Nuada and Eric. "Now if you want more information than that about Grace, you pick up the damn phone and you call her yourself. I don't even know if she actually left or not."

Without saying one more word Logan headed for door, but Nuada beat him to it. He was already out of his chair and headed toward the door and Eric didn't even get to explain what happened with Haldir. That valuable information was about to get passed on anyway, because when Nuada came out of that back door and crossed the parking lot headed for the Jag, there was a rather imposing form leaned up against the tree beside it.

"Suilaid Nuada." The rather harsh voice sounded.

"Suilaid Glorfindel." Nuada answered impatiently. He was in absolutely no mood for a visit from an elf right then. "Man anírach cerin an le? What can I do for you this night golden warrior?"

"I come to share glad tidings with you this evening." Glorfindel told Nuada firmly. He was as imposing as ever as he unfolded that massive form away from the tree, and he was looking over Nuada very carefully in the rather dim light. There were very, very few creatures who might stand up to Nuada, but Glorfindel was certainly one of them and Nuada knew it.

"An accord has been reached between Haldir of Lorien and the human you stand guard over – I myself was present. Gandalf has been so kind as to offer his assistance. A binding spell is in place, set upon a ring. The bond is eased between them. Your threats are no longer necessary." Glorfindel's words might be carefully pleasant, but Nuada knew instantly there was a hidden warning for him tucked neatly inside.

"You involve yourself in something that is of no concern to you elf." Nuada told him coldly, green eyes flashing their own warning in return.

"I involve myself at the request of Lord Elrond himself. Never forget that I swear loyalty to the Lord of Rivendell same as you offer allegiance to Lord Niall. Your challenge to Haldir of Lorien was seen by all. You threaten the life of my friend if his breath falls against that human, yet the Pinilyaer demands he yield . . . threatens the very life of a marchwarden in return if he does not comply." Pausing, Glorfindel raked his own burning gaze over Nuada.

"Note my words Mellon nín so there is no chance of mistake. Haldir answered the Pinilyaer and I was by his side. The meeting was pure, as was the accord reached. I tell you now until the bond is broken it shall be tempered by my own hand if necessary. I do not expect to see you returned to the marchwarden arena as you were of late. A better use of your energies would be to gain control over that little human you stand guard over. It would be most ill advised to retaliate against actions brought by her own hand."

Hidden meaning? Go screw yourself Nuada. Haldir went to see Grace because she asked him to – deal with it, and if you don't like it, I've got that general's back, thanks so very much!

Nuada said nothing in response, that flat stare said it all for him. Glorfindel had delivered his message, and Nuada had received it. Politely inclining his head to Nuada, Glorfindel stepped away, accepting Nuada's head nod in return. The two powerful creatures understood one another. Unfortunately, in South Carolina, there were two very different creatures who did not.

Grace was as happy as she'd been in a very long time as she leaned up against that glass countertop. That beautiful black Escalade of hers was carefully tucked into a huge private work bay in the back of Trey's shop, and the man himself was back there ever so carefully putting the most beautiful blue flames you'd ever seen down the side of it. They'd exchanged about a zillion emails since his Christmas visit, and she'd gotten her talented friend to make some other custom decals as well. Grace intended to make her visit worthwhile.

May as well make that visit worthwhile, because Nuada certainly wasn't. When he didn't show up early Valentine's morning, she'd forced herself to calm down, even managed to sleep for while . . . she repeated Sookie's words to herself over and over again . . . perhaps her ideas about Nuada were wrong. They should not assume he went to Crash Mansion again, perhaps he simply had to work late and was very tired.

Determined not to get upset, Grace got up and took a shower late that afternoon, still determined to remain positive. Maybe he'd come that night instead – it was after all Valentine's Day, and Eric Northman had even called, personally inviting her and Nuada to his party at Fangtasia. When Grace heard that knock at her door on Valentine's night, and saw blonde hair, she assumed it was Nuada and her heart sang. Too bad when she opened it she found Logan, and her good intentions crashed and burned.

Obviously, Nuada wasn't coming. Assuming the worst, when Logan left, Grace did too, hauling ass to Greenville and the comfort of her friend. It took the entire night to drive it, and she'd checked into the hotel that morning, grabbing some much needed sleep then heading to see Trey late that afternoon. Closing time was the best time to be at Carolina Customs anyway! That's when his friends normally came by.

When Grace waltzed through that door Trey Lockhardt's jaw dropped. If he surprised her at Fangtasia, she shocked the living crap out of him and he nearly crushed her in those big ole arms. "Well I'll be damned. My sweetheart came to see me for Valentine's!" he exclaimed. Trey was quick to observe Grace was alone and didn't seem as happy as she could. Easily guessing the reason, he tactfully said nothing. If his little sweetheart wanted to talk about men troubles, she would. Grace didn't.

Grace didn't want to be bothered either – not by anyone - and while her phone was in her pocket, it was off and she intended to leave it that way. Eric Northman was already trying to call, and so was Sookie because Eric had immediately called his fiancée, demanding to know if Grace left again. Sookie honestly knew nothing. Grace didn't tell her cousin she was leaving, knowing she'd tell Eric and Eric would tell Nuada. Grace already figured out how that crap worked.

As much as Grace didn't want to be bothered, she was sure as hell about to be. Carolina Customs was officially closed, although everyone was in the back work area busy as bees on the obnoxious selection of vehicles they'd pulled inside. After closing time was when they worked on their own trucks and their special friend's vehicles. Tonight was no exception, and Grace was one of those special friends, and her truck was one of those vehicles.

Grace was just hanging out in the showroom minding her own business, flipping through one of the many catalogs, amazing herself at the things inside. She was trying to decide what to bring back for Logan when she heard the little bell on the door sound. One of the workers had just come up front and exchanged glances with the newcomer, and Grace didn't feel compelled to look up. The guy never said a word, just disappeared into the back and Grace continued to flip pages.

There is a very distinct feeling you get when someone walks over your grave, or so the expression goes. If there was such a feeling Grace suddenly got it, and before she could breathe again, she found herself encased with a strong, pale arm on either side of her and a very hard male body pressed against the back of her body inhaling deeply. If it hadn't been a cool body, she would have thought it was Nuada, but that was sure as hell not Nuada, and she knew it before that blood chilling voice hit her ears. "And what do we have here?"

What we had was a young human who despised being touched by strangers, particularly of the fanged variety. Clenching her teeth, Grace closed her eyes and instantly the blue flickers answered. Before that vampire knew it, Grace had him shoved back a good six feet from where she was standing, flipping around to face him with two huge grey eyes burning with sapphire flames. He was stunned, and if she hadn't had hold of his entire body with his mind, he might have said something, only he couldn't – Grace was choking him from the inside out.

Glancing around carefully, Grace quickly realized he was not alone. There were two other vamps she could see and possibly more hidden inside the various displays or even outside. Her little southern ass was in a world of shit. The accompanying duo was easing up behind their obvious leader, wondering what the hell was wrong with him, and she could see from their posture and popped fangs, she had their attention in the very worst way.

"You are being rude Erulissë." The soft voice whispered into her ear, and Grace damn near thought she'd faint. Never, ever had Grace been more pleased to hear Nuada's voice than right then.

Taking a small step backwards, Grace eased herself right back against Nuada, thrilled to the very pits of her terrified soul to feel that warm hard body pressed against hers. Muscles rippled under that black silk every time he breathed, and Grace could feel each one and it was a fantastic feeling. Her heart was beating so hard, Nuada could clearly feel it, and her sheer terror was what brought him to her side. His blackberry had been on auto redial as he tried desperately to reach her, hoping he could reason with Grace to simply return home when that avalanche of fear swept over him. Her guardian never hesitated, and Nuada was standing beside Grace in that showroom in under a second.

Moving his head to the other side of hers, Grace felt Nuada's hair brushing against her neck and shoulders, so soft and wonderful as it did. "I believe you may release him now." He told her softly in the opposite ear, that warm breath just tracing against her flesh as he did.

Those big grey eyes were still firmly locked on the strangest pair of yellowish gold ones she'd ever seen, and Grace wasn't feeling quite so comfortable as the man behind her. Finally, she relented and did release his body but not his legs. That vampire might be able to talk, but he wasn't gonna be going anywhere.

"Wow!" he said loudly when Grace turned him loose. "Very impressive little firefly! Gave me the willies!" His voice shared a strange sense of actual amazement and sarcasm, and Grace knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that vampire had very bad intentions so far as she was concerned.

She was correct, but as Sebastian stared at the two strange creatures facing him, both with pure fire burning in their eyes, that vampire found himself much more intrigued than anything else. "If I could move I'd come over and introduce myself," he said smoothly, "but I'm afraid someone seems to still have hold of me somehow." Those strange eyes were locked on Grace because he knew she was the one doing it, and he was baiting her to release him. She didn't.

About that time Trey came waddling in from the back, and Grace immediately extinguished herself. No way was her friend going to see her turned blue! Her mind was still firmly locked on that vampire though, and she listened intently as Trey greeted him. The tension in the air was palpable, and Trey wasn't stupid. It was obvious he just interrupted a rather tense moment. Standing there looking around uncertainly, he couldn't help but notice that Nuada was now standing in his showroom beside Grace and that Grace was stuck to him like she was terrified. His vampire clientele weren't his favorites, but they brought a lot of business so Trey tolerated them. He would not, however, tolerate them bothering Grace.

"Sebastian Ruthven, you know better than to come in my shop and bother people, particularly ones I'm as fond of as that young girl right there." Trey was passing that vampire a pretty strong look, which was rather amazing considering what any of those vampires could do to a simple human. Sebastian took the warning to heart though. He knew if he pissed Trey off, the man just wouldn't do any more work for him, and that was the most serious threat of them all.

"I'm behaving!" he said with an odd laugh, holding his hands up in mock submission. "You got something for me?"

"Believe I do." Trey said, heading for some boxes stacked on a nearby desk. He was still eying the group of people in his showroom uncertainly. Trey Lockhardt didn't trust Sebastian as far as he could spit, but he was big shit on campus so far as vampires in South Carolina went and he garnered respect even if he didn't deserve it.

That good looking but slightly rough around the edges vampire Grace still had hold of was none other than the Sheriff of Area 2 in South Carolina, and he was as powerful in her home state as Eric Northman was in his own. His hands were into everything, and he owned several clubs himself. He also liked nice vehicles, same as most vampires did, and Trey Lockhardt was his hero so far as that was concerned. The six foot tall stocky vamp had raven black hair and piercing eyes that were nearly as dark as the hair was. Obviously young when he was turned, Sebastian barely looked twenty in human years and he was arrogant as hell – it just fell off him, that cocky look at me strut. Grace despised him instantly.

"Got 'em!" Trey called out, and Sebastian passed Grace a rather pointed stare. If she didn't turn him loose, then she could explain to her little fat friend over there why he couldn't walk to that counter and see his decals.

After a polite shoulder squeeze from Nuada, Grace did turn him loose, but she sure didn't want to. Her eyes stayed firmly locked on him every inch of the way as he strutted across that showroom. Unfortunately, some of Grace's decals were in that same box. "Got some of yours here too Grace!" Trey called out, carefully separating the decals into several different stacks. He had instantly switched into work mode, intent on his clients and their decals – the tense moment was gone from Trey's mind just as quickly as it came.

Grace didn't feel the same, and she didn't move toward the counter either. Nuada's magnificent chest pressed against her back was making her extremely happy, and there were two more vamps she was still watching.

"Go look." Nuada told her softly in her ear, reassuring Grace she was indeed safe.

Without ever turning to look at Nuada, Grace reluctantly eased over to the far counter where Sebastian was standing, sidling up about five feet away from him, Trey standing in front of them. Nuada just leaned himself against the counter where Grace was originally standing, casually hanging out – he could have been leaning against a fence in a field chewing a piece of grass he was so unconcerned. He had an excellent vantage point, and Sebastian Ruthven already knew better than to touch one hair on that girl's head.

Trey was politely showing Sebastian his decals, and while the vampire checked them over, he stepped closer to Grace. "Here's yours for Fangtasia sweetheart. Big one's for Eric's corvette, smalls and mediums are for your friends. Sure he's gonna like 'em – think they turned out real nice. If you want one on the Escalade, just show me where and I'll put it on while I'm doing the others."

Well, that little speech just lit up Sebastian's curiosity to no end. Surely, those decals were not for THE Fangtasia in Louisiana! And what a coincidence! His new truck was an extended Escalade SUV – small world. Easing right over, Sebastian parked himself so close to Grace his arm was brushing hers as he looked over those club decals.

"That wouldn't be the infamous Fangtasia in Louisiana now would it?" he asked, that voice smooth as silk, trying his best to lure Grace into talking to him. He had his head so close to Grace's she could see the pores in his skin out of her peripheral vision, and she wanted to puke but if he wanted to mouth back and forth with somebody, she was certainly game.

"The one and only. Hottest spot on earth for a fangbanger!" Grace answered in her best southern drawl, feigning a smile. Sebastian gave her a much, much more interested look after Grace said that. Running his eyes over ever inch of those skin tight jeans and little black t-shirt that vampire was sure hoping Grace was a fangbanger because he'd love to bang that shit. Little did he know, Grace was a fangbanger alright – she just preferred to bang them against the metal walls of warehouses, instead of in bed, that's all.

Sebastian leaned back to run those weird yellow eyes over her ass, then eased a little closer. "Don't suppose you've met Eric?" He asked suggestively. If this girl had truly been inside Fangtasia, she had to know who Eric was.

"Oh I've met him." Grace answered with a "been there, done that" smile, turning slightly so she was looking right in his face. "Tall blonde . . . really nice ass . . . red corvette . . . slick hood." She cooed out those last words, passing him a smoldered look that would have stopped his heart if it actually beat.

Sebastian couldn't help the stunned look he got. He thought he could fuck with Grace a little, he just didn't realize she'd fuck back – he'd found himself a live one! That vampire turned right around against that counter to face her, leaning up so close to Grace he was damn near pressed right up against her with his entire body, even trailed a cold finger across her arm. "You like car hoods?" he asked suggestively, his eyes taking in every single inch of that pretty little face, lingering over those scars, taking in that strange scent. Sebastian didn't know what Grace was, but he knew it sure as hell wasn't human.

"Sorry sweetie, Corvette's just aren't my thing." Grace told him with a disgusted little sigh, "but I have been considering a Jaguar . . . you know, something to make the pussy purr."

Grace was the one purring right then, and as her words sank into that vampire's brain, he damn near swallowed his tongue. Poor Trey nearly pissed himself, and across that showroom, Nuada couldn't help that tiny little smile he was getting. Grace wasn't just screwing around with that vampire now, she was screwing with him too.

Trey was looking from one to the other and back again, even passing Nuada a very uncertain look. He didn't know what the hell he missed before he walked in that showroom, but it must have been a doozie. "Sweetheart, I'm gonna go pull your truck around. You want to come with me?" Trey was giving Grace a way to get away from Sebastian and she knew it, but she wanted a minute alone with Mr. Mouthy now. Couldn't wait.

"Oh no, I'm good." She told Trey sweetly.

Staying right where she was, everyone in that room waited until Trey was back out the rear door before another word was spoken. When the door snapped shut, that vampire leaned his head back and just laughed before returning his face to hers. "You just think you're something don't you?" He asked Grace with an odd smile, then he leaned a little closer. "You really been on the hood of Eric Northman's Corvette?"

Meeting his blatant stare with one of her own, Grace's answer really stunned him. "Five thousand dollars for new shocks and tires when we were done." She told him with a smug grin as she pulled away from the counter.

Sebastian caught Grace by the arm as she started to move away, and really got in her face. Trey was gone, he didn't have to be nice anymore. "I don't believe you." He told Grace in a soft, threatening voice.

Sebastian was trying to scare Grace, only it didn't work. The blue flames were just beginning to flicker under her skin again when she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, popping it open and flipping her fingers over the buttons until Eric's number came up. Grace shoved it right under his nose. "Speed dial. Wanna ask him yourself?"

That just impressed the shit out of Sebastian, and he got the strangest look on his face. Obviously, the girl standing in front of him wasn't all mouth after all, and while he still couldn't figure out exactly what she was, he sure love to find out!

"Tell you what sweetheart," he told Grace, mocking Trey's words as he ran another undressing stare over her, "Eric's leftovers wouldn't normally appeal to me, but I'll make an exception for a sweet little thing like you . . . if you ever decide you want to know what it's like to be with a real vampire you just call my name."

Turning to look at Sebastian, Grace raked that vampire with the coldest glare he'd ever seen in all his years. The fake flirting was officially over. "Tell you what sweetheart." Grace drawled out sarcastically. "You get that good looking blonde man over there to give you permission to fuck me, and I'll make you forget your name. Until then, if you don't get your damn hands off me, I'm gonna tear 'em off and hand them back to you."

It was about that time Trey came busting through the front door. "Got your truck Grace. Come take a look!"

Thankful for a reason to be leaving, Grace snatched her arm away from Sebastian and headed for the door. The vampires followed, and Grace was none too enthusiastic about being outside in the dark with a bunch of strange fangers. That being said, she also knew she was perfectly safe when she saw that Nuada had eased outside as well, and she stopped worrying about them completely when she saw how good her truck looked.

Trey was eagerly showing her the new decals, and Nuada simply stood over to the side and watched Grace as she smiled and ran her hands over them. She was slowly circling her truck, brightly voicing her appreciation to Trey, when Sebastian eased over beside him.

"A guardian . . ." the vampire said with a touch of admiration as he ran those strange yellow eyes over him, "thought you were just myth and legend. Didn't know there really was such a thing."

Nuada didn't even acknowledge the odd compliment, simply continued to watch Grace happily fawn all over her truck with Trey.

"She yours?" Sebastian asked, still looking over Nuada closely. That vampire already knew the answer to his question, but when Nuada slid those burning green eyes over his, he left little doubt what would happen to Sebastian Ruthven if that vampire ever touched Grace again.

Watching Nuada return his gaze to Grace, Sebastian casually handed him a business card. His cold golden eyes were locked on Grace too, and his voice was as serious as his expression when he spoke again. "I know Eric Northman so you've got that on your side, but if you want to keep that girl alive, you better let me know before she comes back in my territory. If not, she won't last long." Politely accepting the card, Nuada said nothing, just slipped it into his pocket.

"Mind if I talk a look?" Sebastian called out, walking over to join Trey and Grace. Soon all the vampires were fawning over her beautiful black Escalade right along with Grace. Strange vamps weren't her favorite, they did seem genuinely interested in her truck, and Sebastian was. His brand new cream colored Cadillac SUV was parked a few spaces over in the otherwise empty lot, and he was hoping to get Trey to do comparable work to it. Finally, Grace had enough of showing off, and went for the truck door, passing Nuada an uncertain look as she did. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out, he must be coming with her.

He politely climbing into the passenger seat as Grace gave Trey his usual hug and kisses, then she climbed in too, rolling down her windows for a final wave. "Nice ride!" Sebastian called out as she was pulling away, and Grace wondered if he was referring to her truck, or her ass. It was with the most reluctance imaginable she rolled back up that window and started down that road. When that black glass met the top of that truck door, she felt like she'd just descended into hell, and the term silent as death took on a whole new meaning.

The irritating beep of a cell phone who's battery is nearly dead was the only sound in that truck and Grace impatiently snatched it out of her pocket and plugged it into the charger. It had been off until she flipped it on to shove in Sebastian's face, and she had more missed calls and messages that she could count. Flipping it open, her eyes shifted from the road to the phone and back again as she ran over them – Eric called, Sookie, Alcide, and Lord have mercy on us All – Nuada called her phone for the very first time.

Grace was still holding it, staring at that missed caller id when both her phone and Nuada's began to ring simultaneously. Nuada's phone was just hitting his ear when Grace realized what name was across her little LED screen. "Oh shit!" was all she could manage, and she honestly didn't know whether to answer it or not. Stunned, Grace glanced over at Nuada. Her beautiful blonde companion was holding his phone to his ear, but he wasn't saying one word.

Completely confused, Grace didn't answer hers, but no sooner did it stop ringing that it started again, and that time she did answer. "Yep?" she said softly.

"I'm impressed. You didn't lie about Eric or the car." Sebastian Ruthven's oddly familiar voice told Grace. "Save my number. Next time you come to South Carolina I expect a call. I want to see you again." He hung up without even giving her a chance to reply, and Grace felt her heart stop beating completely. Snapping that phone shut, Grace was positive that was Eric on the phone with Nuada, and all she could do was try to keep that Escalade on the road as she wondered what on earth she had started by coming to South Carolina.


	33. To Assume

Chapter 33 – To Assume

 **To ASSUME: To Make an Ass out of U and Me.**

A relatively common southern slang expression, Nuada and Grace were going to become the poster children for it. When the redneck dictionary comes out, their picture should be right beside that entry, because those two loved nothing better than to assume the very worst of one another, and they were certainly going to make asses of themselves before it was all over. Lack of communication is the most common downfall of any relationship, and theirs was to be no exception . . . if it ever truly became a relationship.

What should have been a fifteen minute ride to the hotel turned into some of the longest moments of Grace's life, and they also proved to be some of the most interesting. The first shock came with that damn phone call. Grace could only assume that Sebastian Ruthven got her telephone number from Eric, and if her good ole buddy vamp from Louisiana thought she chewed his ass out the first time he ran his mouth about her on a telephone, it would pale in comparison to this go round. Obviously, Eric Northman needed a few rules of telephone etiquette per Grace explained to him.

There were a number of things Nuada needed Grace to explain to him as well. Her good looking guardian hadn't even glanced in her direction since he climbed in that Cadillac, but he'd been reading her mind since the very instant he appeared by her side, and both his mind and his heart were scrambling to keep up with the smorgasbord of juicy information it was providing. His mind was on overload as he sat in the warm leather seat of that black Escalade, just as overwhelmed as it had been when he was sitting in Los Angeles and Grace played with that ring.

Nuada quickly realized he'd made a number of incorrect assumptions about Grace, but his paled in comparison to hers. The first thing Nuada figured out was not going to Grace's house when he returned from Los Angeles was a near fatal mistake so far as that human woman beside him was concerned. Her guardian did have a tremendous amount to learn about humans and dating because he'd been reduced to the level of shower mold in her eyes. Grace assumed he'd spent his night with the woman responsible for that bite mark at Crash Mansion – she assumed wrong. Grace also assumed since Nuada didn't show up, he didn't care about her not one little bit – once again, she assumed wrong - very wrong.

The final important assumption Nuada discovered was also the one he was having the most trouble coming to terms with, and it was certainly an attention getter. Grace's heart was torn apart, waging a violent war between Lord Elrond's words of warning and Sookie's uplifting speech. At last, Nuada had the final, beautiful piece of the puzzle as to why the little human he wanted so badly had changed her attitude toward him, had chilled toward his advances. Finally, Nuada knew why Grace was fighting against a relationship with him so desperately.

Lord Elrond's words had been hidden ever so neatly from Nuada for weeks, tucked deep inside Grace's mind in a secret place he could not reach, but Haldir's words of confirmation were running through her tortured mind as clearly as if they were broadcasting over a loudspeaker. Grace assumed Nuada was an elf, and she believed Lord Elrond and Haldir as if their words had been chiseled in stone . . . she was convinced there was absolutely no chance of her ever being loved by Nuada. Immortals didn't consort with humans, he would most certainly walk away, Yet again, Grace assumed wrong. Amarande Nuada was a whole lot of things, but an elf was not one of them . . . and he already loved Grace more than she could ever comprehend. He was stunned.

What Grace did next was wrong too, and it stunned Nuada worse than any of her thoughts did. Seemed Grace's recent attitude about wanting answers to her questions right that very moment had not altered even with her change of location. She already had the attitude from hell because of her little run in with Sebastian Ruthven, and Grace had a few really good questions for Nuada she was just dying to know the answer to . . . and there was no time like the present.

Nuada's mind was the mental equivalent of a scrambled egg, and being nearly impaled against that broad wood grain dash certainly didn't help. Grace was wearing her seat belt when she locked the brakes on that damn truck, but Nuada wasn't and when that huge black truck started screaming down the highway, everything inside including Nuada went flying. He barely caught himself before being slammed into the dash and crap flew into the floorboards from every direction while smoke just rolled off those big fat tires straining to bite the pavement. Grace nearly got rear ended, and she didn't give a flying shit.

That unbelievably hard headed little human whipped that tricked out beast of a vehicle onto the side of the road and right into the grassy median, and before Nuada could even straighten himself back in the seat she'd slammed that truck into park and crawled over that pretty custom console right up into his face. This was only the second time Grace was brave enough to get in Nuada's face, but she made it worthwhile because if he was close to her the night he put her into that refrigerator, she got even closer. "You tell me right now if you fucked that girl in Los Angeles or you get your ass out of my truck."

There was enough anger and jealousy pouring off Grace to cook his scrambled mess of a mind into an omelet, and she was so close Nuada could feel her warm delicate breath against his skin with every word Grace drawled out. He certainly wasn't expecting that question out of her mouth. Hell he wasn't expecting any of this, and all he could manage was to stare back at her.

"Talk or walk," Grace hissed, "because I'm dying to know if you paid that whore with the money you get paid for watching over my ass, or if you spent it all on that damn new car." Nuada realized Grace was absolutely serious, and it took him a minute to even form a response. Her eyes were locked on him like she sincerely wanted to kill him, they were just spitting blue flames at him, and she had enough blue flickers tracing under her skin to light up the whole truck.

"Is that what you think of me?" Nuada finally managed to growl out into her face. "That I pass myself between you and a whore in Los Angeles . . . that you are no more to me that your great-grandfather's promises . . . some twisted source of income?" His voice was a strange mix of disappointment, confusion and desperation, but it was also very, very angry. They never finished that conversation about him being paid to stay with her, but it seemed they were about to and Nuada had heard enough comments from Grace about that damn new Jaguar to last him a lifetime!

"You're damn right that's what I think!" Grace nearly screamed at him. "You treat me like a god damn pet . . . You just drop by on Thursday's to feed me and pat me on my head, and you did screw me then passed your ass to Miss Los Angeles for a big fat bite mark on your neck!"

Grace lowered her voice, giving it an edge sharp enough to cut right through that clouded fog of breakfast food in his brain. "Tell me what really happened when you got that bite mark in Crash Mansion, and I want to know if she's the reason you didn't come see me on Valentines!"

Grace was furious, consumed by jealousy and anger, and Nuada was rapidly joining her.   
Leaning forward right into her face, Nuada's voice just dripped with pain and fury when he answered her. "Erulissë, do not ever accuse me of such things again." he warned, enraged beyond belief that Grace thought such things of him. "I stay by your side out of concern for you. Nothing more is involved, nor shall it ever be, and that damn car is mine and mine alone . . . I bought it for you Erulissë in hopes that you would agree to let me take you to dinner in it, to overcome your fear of cars, to give me another part of yourself. Lord Niall has given me nothing past the most precious gift of meeting you."

Liar, liar pants on fire . . . and you still didn't answer the question.

Lies or not, as always they were good ones, and Grace slipped back into her seat. If the man was nothing else, he was a damn genius at manipulating words. Her mind was struggling to determine if what Nuada just said was true or some sick trick to make her go back to Louisiana and behave. It was a little of both, but Grace needed more than the very air she breathed to believe him. Her heart was desperately trying to let Sookie's words win, but her heart was having a very hard time.

"Tell me you care about me Nuada, that you honestly didn't go to that woman . . . " Grace whispered, "that you don't do this because Niall pays you." Sookie Stackhouse would be proud. Grace wanted to believe, she truly did.

"Erulissë," Nuada told her quietly, his voice low but sharp as a knife as his words cut across that truck interior toward her, "the problem between us is not mine - it is yours. You refuse to let that elf go . . . you cry for him, call for him, force him to come to you. Your body may long for my touch, yet that is not what I long for. If I am to possess you, I shall have all of you or none, and I will walk away long before I ever share even the smallest part of you with another man. That choice is mine to make, and I shall not apologize for it."

His words hung over Grace like the blade of guillotine and while Nuada truly did mean them, they were not entirely true. That creature missed Grace and her touch so badly, he would gladly take any part she was willing to offer.

Nuada's revelation to Eric Northman earlier that night was true. For the past five thousand years Nuada had carried the burden of who he was. Every hour of every day of every year, he had been an outcast - never accepted - never loved – never cared for. For five thousand long and painful years, that strange creature had endured the hatred and disdain that poured his way, yet he always remained true to himself.

His entire existence had been dedicated to being a warrior, and Nuada had perfected the very art of killing and blade manipulation. Sheer determination and the power of his spirit had transformed Nuada into one of the most revered supernatural creatures ever to exist, and while he might be universally hated, he commanded respect and awe from the creatures in every realm. That power came at a steep price, because his fierce determination to achieve perfection had also forced love away. His very soul was trained to be emotionless. Nuada would never belong to another, for to allow any creature to hold his heart was to allow them control over him, and to show weakness was something Nuada simply would not tolerate of himself.

Throughout the centuries, that ancient creature had turned away so many offers of pleasure, so many opportunities for companionship . . . but this time was different. Grace was different. Unloved and unwanted for all of his life, Nuada had never found genuine comfort in the arms of another. When he was sent to Grace, his fëa was wounded very nearly beyond repair by thousands of years of neglect, yet something about that strange little human touched him. Starved for love, hungered for the smallest sign of genuine affection, Nuada was unprepared for the emotions Grace stirred within him. The human woman came to him willingly, gave herself to him freely, genuinely cared for his wellbeing . . . and above all else, she wanted to free him of his pain. For the first time ever, Nuada's tortured soul felt peace by her side.

The first moment those elegant pale fingers grasped her small tanned ones, Nuada knew Grace was different. When the healing blue flames of her aura caressed him that night at the wading pools, Grace not only healed those horrible tears in his body, she washed Nuada's darkened soul clean. It had taken time, but ever so slowly, Grace freed his heart from centuries of pain. Every brush of her fingers soothed, every kiss brought relief, and the feel of her body against his finally opened the cage that held his heart captive for so very long. Nuada's decision was made. He chose to love Grace weeks ago when he called upon his own mother to save her, and now he was determined to find some way to make her love him back.

Tortured emerald eyes searched for hers in the dim lighting of that truck interior, silently begging Grace to say something, anything in response to his words. Nuada wanted so much to hear her say the words that she wanted him, that she loved him . . . words no woman had ever spoken to him before, not even his own mother. Those smeared fingerprints on that car window were burned into his brain, and he wanted to hear that soft, southern twang drawl out "I love you" more than anything he'd every wanted in his life. It wasn't going to happen.

The very qualities that drew Nuada to Grace, kept Nuada from Grace. That gorgeous blonde haired guardian was not the only one with a determined spirit, and those horrible scars that covered her flesh were visible proof of how fiercely Grace would fight to survive. Tonight's episode with Sebastian Ruthven proved yet again that terrified or not, that little human would never back down, and no matter how much Grace cared about Nuada, feeling it and confessing it were two totally different things.

The idea of baring her soul and allowing another being to hold power over her was as unconscionable to Grace as it was to Nuada. He may have made his decision to love her, but she wasn't quite there yet. Grace resented the strange bonds she shared with Nuada and Haldir. They held her captive, tortured her, made her question every single thing she felt, and regret every single thing she'd said. Her confessions of love to Haldir the morning she left Rivendell were as out of character as anything Grace had ever done, but she'd certainly meant them at the time. Haldir's revelation that they never shared love might very well be true, but it made Grace ashamed of her words, and it would be a very, very long time before she opened her heart or her mouth that way again. Nuada would have to accept the affections Grace was willing to offer, let her actions speak for the words she could not say, or he'd just have to do without.

Sitting in the stillness, those glistening green eyes were glued on her shadowed form, Nuada's attention riveted by the woman he cared for so deeply. Grace said nothing, trembling as she stared out that dark truck window, completely overcome with emotion at the things he had said.

"Erulissë, please say something." Nuada finally prompted, desperately wanting to hear something from Grace, needing to know what she was thinking since he had stopped reading her thoughts. However she felt about him, he wanted to hear it from her mouth, not steal it from her mind.

"You didn't answer my question." Grace said so softly, Nuada barely caught her words over the quiet growl of the truck engine.

They brought a terrible frown, and Nuada knew once again their conversation was doomed to fail, as nearly every one before had been. "So long as you wear that marchwarden pendant I do not intend to." he snarled, and with one more long lingering look, he disappeared.

Grace sat there for the longest time, just staring into the darkness, watching the raindrops as they began to softly fall. Her cell phone was ringing relentlessly, but she didn't even glance over at it, didn't give a damn who was calling. Grace didn't even know what time she left Trey's shop, didn't know how much time had passed, but at some point a pair of headlights came to shine through the back of her truck. They were dimmed by the dark tint on her windows, but they were there nonetheless, and Grace knew she was no longer alone.

Glancing in her rear view mirror, Grace could easily tell it wasn't a highway patrolman. It had been a long time since she'd gotten a traffic citation, but last time she checked, they didn't drive trucks that sat up as tall as hers did, and even before that pale face appeared outside her window, Grace knew exactly who that particular truck belonged to.

"Not having problems with that Cadillac are you?" the strange cool voice asked politely. Sebastian was trying to suppress a smile, thrilled at finding Grace beside the road, shocked when that tinted window came down and he realized she was alone. There was a single tear tracing down her cheek, and he frowned slightly when he saw it.

Recalling his all too recent conversation with Eric Northman, Sebastian wondered if that tear was because of his actions at Carolina Customs. "Listen Grace . . . I didn't mean to scare you back there. I was just having a little fun." He told her sincerely, and Grace's face transformed from polite tolerance to go screw yourself in an instant. She tore a glare over him like he was pond scum.

"Sebastian Ruthven, you might be a lot of things, but you don't scare me." Grace told him coldly, and in some strange way he believed her. Sebastian actually scared the holy shit out of Grace, but she knew he couldn't put one finger on her if she didn't let him, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let him.

And no sooner did that thought cross her mind, than Sebastian did touch Grace, but it wasn't what she expected. He caught that tear on her cheek with his finger and tasted it. Grace didn't even realize she was crying her mind was so far away, and the expression on his face surprised her. "Odd." That cold voice said. "You taste very . . . odd."

Those strange yellow eyes were raking over her again, only now the powerful vamp was standing on the opposite side of her than he'd been in Carolina Customs, and that low scoop neck on her t-shirt was giving him a pretty good look at that big damn scar on her neck. His eyes latched right onto it, and Grace could tell he was more than a little surprised. "I hope that isn't how you met Eric Northman." He suggested uncertainly.

"It is," Grace answered flatly, "but he didn't start it, he finished it. Eric's a friend . . . and it's raining in my truck." Her eyes slid from his face to very noticeably stare at the growing collection of water droplets just inside that Escalade door, telling Sebastian she was about to roll up that window.

Taking her hint, the imposing vampire stepped back and Grace did roll up her truck window, but by the time it was up, Sebastian Ruthven was sliding himself into her passenger seat. Grace had no idea how he got that damn door unlocked, and the sound of it snapping shut behind him was like the toll of a death bell. In that instant, Grace suddenly found herself trapped in her very own vehicle with a damn vampire she knew absolutely nothing about. Her frown and those subtle flickers were telling Sebastian she wasn't impressed with his entrance, and thankfully, he knew enough to be very careful of Grace when he started talking again.

"Don't worry Grace, Eric's already made it very clear you're a friend." Sebastian told her in an oddly reassuring voice. "Man speaks highly of you . . . and Eric doesn't speak highly of very many people. Guess you're one of the lucky ones."

Grace couldn't help her sarcastic grunt at that comment, and he passed her another strange little smile. The vampire was good looking, but in a very menacing way. Smile or not, Sebastian Ruthven was scary . . . just plain scary. Raking his eyes from her to that cell phone in her console that wouldn't stop ringing, he asked the obvious question. "You gonna get that?"

Without even moving her eyes from him, Grace just nodded. "Nope."

That really got a smile, and Grace knew she was just entertaining the shit out of that vampire's ass. Must be very boring in Greenville, South Carolina for vampires if she was that much of a novelty! "You gonna sit there and stare at me all night, or don't you have anything else to do?" Grace asked sarcastically, instantly morphing his smile into a full blown laugh. She just tickled him to pieces – idiot.

"I always have things to do," the dark haired vamp told her as he leaned a little closer across that console, "but nothing that's more important that rescuing a damsel in distress. Now tell me, you want me to drive you somewhere? Want us to follow you to wherever you're staying? You seem unhappy, and you're obviously alone . . ." Those eyes were very pointed when they ran over that empty seat behind her, and his mouth wasn't saying nearly as much as they were. He had her sweet southern ass cornered, and he knew it.

Grace was praying Nuada would show up and snatch that arrogant jerk out of her truck, but he didn't. "Don't think he's ever far." Grace warned, positive one good mental scream for help would bring Nuada running. And if he still had his panties in a wad and didn't want to show up, Grace was pretty sure Haldir of Lorien would have that damn vampire run through before he could flinch . . . and let's not ever forget about good old great-granddad!

"Well wherever your impressive blonde friend is, you've got to get a move on Firefly. No way am I leaving you sitting beside the road in the middle of the night. Now, tell me if you're ok to drive, or if you want me to take you somewhere." That dark haired vampire was being perfectly serious, and Grace couldn't imagine what Eric Northman said through that phone to force him into being so nice to her. If Grace had to guess, Sebastian Ruthven probably hadn't been this nice to anyone in years.

"I'll manage." Grace told him firmly.

Sebastian wasn't disillusioned enough to think he was ever gonna put his ass behind the wheel of her Escalade, and he wasn't the least bit surprised with her answer. "I'm sure you will." He told her sarcastically, running his eyes over her scars one more time. "Bet you wouldn't ask for help if you were laying in a ditch somewhere."

"Not if hell froze over," Grace answered, "but thanks for offering. I've got the warm fuzzies now." Shifting the truck in gear as a not so subtle hint for him to get the fuck out of her truck, Grace gave both him and that door a look that flatly screamed good riddance

The chilling laugh that followed her latest comment was enough to put shivers down your spine, but it stopped as soon as he opened that truck door. "You mind yourself around here Firefly, and you keep my number. I do expect to see you again."

Grace didn't say another word, just cringed at that parting wink then watched him gently push that gleaming truck door closed. Sebastian was still standing in the middle of that median completely oblivious to the rain when she pulled back onto the highway, and he stayed right there watching her truck disappear for as long as she could see him through her rear view mirror. She didn't go back to the hotel for a good hour, driving around aimlessly, making damn sure she wasn't being followed. Finally comfortable Sebastian was long gone, Grace made her way to the hotel, parking in the most concealed parking space she could find, not that anyone could ever miss her truck . . . it was easily noticed before, but with those big blue flames down the side it was the visual equivalent of a neon sign saying "Here! Grace is right here!"

Back in Black was a most appealing song, one of her very favorites, but as the ring tone on her cell phone, Grace had heard it enough to literally vomit. That magenta Razor was in very real danger of becoming dust by the time that hotel room door clicked shut behind her. This just sucked. She came to South Carolina to have a good time, not to get into a pissing contest with Nuada, or to get mixed up with some damn freaky yellow eyed vampire! Making her way to the small desk, she slipped to sit as she pulled up her email – even had one of those from Eric. Seemed if the barrage of calls wasn't gonna get a response, the Sheriff of Area 5 was going to try any means necessary to get a message through. Glancing at the clock, Grace saw it was a little after midnight, and she was sure Fangtasia was hopping. Eric must want to get hold of her bad.

Right on cue, that phone started ringing again, and as expected, it was Mr. Northman. Positive this would continue till sunup, Grace finally just answered the damn thing. "What do you want?" she snapped harshly. Grace was in no mood.

"Are you having fun yet? Or do I need to tell you how much trouble you almost got yourself in?" Eric's cold voice came waltzing through that phone.

"I didn't start it." Grace hissed back at him. "I was just looking at a book when that asshole came and grabbed me!"

"You went to South Carolina alone Grace, that's all it takes to start it. Didn't Nuada tell you he would escort you down there?" He growled out in return.

"Fuck off Eric! Do you really think if Nuada had escorted me down here that would have kept Sebastian from walking into Trey's shop?" she asked sarcastically, drawling out that word escorted like it was choking her to death.

"Speaking of Nuada . . ." Eric started, but Grace cut him right off.

"We're NOT speaking of Nuada." Grace nearly yelled into the phone. "I know you Eric, and I know you've got that damn blackberry on speaker and he's sitting directly in front of you listening." She was absolutely correct. Nuada was on one side of that desk, and Eric was on the other side with the phone in the middle.

"You can both bite my ass." Grace drawled out nice and loud, emphasizing every syllable so they could fully appreciate them, and she was just getting ready to hang up when Eric started talking again.

"Grace, listen about Sebastian . . ."

She cut Eric off again before he could even finish his sentence. "Screw you and Sebastian. He thinks he's hot shit, and I don't really give a shit. He's already come visiting, and called me. And don't think I won't be thanking you when I get home for giving him my number!" Eric Northman nearly swallowed his tongue when she said that, and Nuada turned two shades paler. Her guardian had no idea that's who called Grace in that truck!

"You listen to me Grace . . ." Eric started talking again, but for the last time Grace cut him off again. She really, really was in no mood.

"Save it dead man. That arrogant ass puts one finger on me and I'll turn him to dust faster than he can blink. Besides, if Nuada thought I was in so much danger from Mr. Ruthven, his ass would still be here." Grace's voice just grated over every word, telling Eric she wasn't kidding, and Grace wasn't. One unexpected visit from Mr. Wonderful and he was toasted ashes.

Choosing to ignore her derogatory comment about Nuada, Eric concentrated on Sebastian. "I didn't give him your number Grace," Eric told Grace firmly, "and just how did he come and visit you? Were you actually stupid enough to tell him where you're staying?"

"I'm not that fucking stupid!" Grace snarled into the phone. "I was sitting beside the road cr . . ." she stopped, her voice about to break and collected herself, "My truck was parked beside the road and he recognized it. He just stopped to see if I was alright. That's all."

Eric picked up the phone, and Grace could tell he didn't have it on speaker anymore. "Grace, are you alright?" his voice was sincere, and she knew Nuada must have told him they had some kind of fight.

"No." she answered, and hung up the phone.

Slinging it across that desk, Grace wanted to explode. Every single serious conversation she and Nuada had ended up in a free for all, and she knew he had to be furious at her for coming to South Carolina without telling him. The fact that Nuada had to come save her ass only proved his point that she couldn't go places without him, and as much as Grace didn't want to admit it, she knew going to bike week was as good as a death sentence if this was the kind of attention she was gonna get. Maybe the vamps in South Carolina thought she smelled better than the ones in Louisiana . . . she didn't know.

What Grace really didn't know, was that those horrible headache causing nightmares that had recently resumed were pumping her full of fairy essence. The more Lord Niall and Nuada passed to her, the more irresistible she became. Once the transfer was complete, Lord Niall could teach her how to mask it the same way he did, but until then, Grace was one tasty smelling little vampire tidbit, and she was on her own.

Grace was also on her own when that cell phone started ringing again about an hour later, and she did want to fry it to dust that time. It wasn't like she was sleeping. Grace was having a good whole hearted cry over Nuada and she didn't feel much like talking. Knowing her impatient vampire friend would just keep calling, she finally flipped it open. Eric didn't even get a hello, just a sniffle, and on the other end he frowned terribly.

Nuada had been in and out of his office for hours. He certainly wasn't crying, but even his carefully blank expression couldn't hide those soulful eyes. His closest friend was obviously deeply disturbed, and if Grace had been at home, Eric would have already forced them to talk at gunpoint if necessary.

Taking a very deep breath, Eric got up and crossed his office, closing the door before he sat back down. His office was empty, and these words were for Grace and Grace alone. "Grace, are you really done with Haldir?" He asked her firmly. "I heard what happened from Sookie, but I want to hear it from you. Are you really finished with that elf?"

Grace said nothing in return, and Eric expression softened as he heard her crying on the other end. Nuada was worried to death about her, and Eric knew that man cared deeply for Grace. How deeply he did not know, but Eric was positive the feelings weren't coming from any money he may or may not be getting from Lord Niall.

The well intentioned vampire knew his human friend was listening, so he kept talking to her. "I know you've been through a lot Grace, but just like Sookie told you Christmas night, there are people who care about you. I care about you, and I know damn well Nuada does. You don't have to be alone Grace." He paused, hoping she'd say something but she didn't.

Sitting on the bed in that empty hotel room, Grace knew Eric Northman was telling her the truth. She'd accepted this strange group of people as her friends, and who was to say if she gave Nuada a chance, they couldn't make this thing work. Screw Lord Elrond and his little speech.

"It's really hard for me Eric." She whispered into the phone, and Eric understood completely. No one had any idea how hard it had been for him to allow himself to love Sookie Stackhouse, and even he never imagined they'd be getting married. Miracles happened every day, and if he could do it, surely Grace could.

"I know it's hard Grace, but you can do it," he reassured her gently, "and you can start right now. Stop crying and call Nuada. Ask him to come back."

Her voice was shaking so hard Grace could barely get the words out when she answered Eric, and she was trembling like a leaf as she sat on that bed, completely overwhelmed by a feeling of total abandonment. "He left me Eric . . . Nuada doesn't want to be with me."

Hearing her voice, Eric knew Grace was obviously more than a little upset over Nuada leaving her, and he knew she cared just as much as his blonde haired friend did. "That's not true." Eric told her firmly. "Now, have you got his number, or do you need me to give it to you again?"

Suddenly hearing his words, Grace got furious. Hell yes, she had Nuada's phone number, but he was the damn one that left – not her! "Why the hell do you care if I call him?" Grace snapped, wondering what stake the vampire had in this, wondering if Nuada was sitting there listening again.

"I care because I want to see my two friends happy the same way me and Sookie are." He sniped back. "If you're honestly done with that elf and you're ready to be with Nuada the way Sookie told me you are, then you need to call him." There was a hidden message in Eric's words, and Grace knew what it was. Nuada cared for her – she just needed to give him the chance to prove it.

Holding that telephone, Grace wanted to know where Nuada was and what he was doing worse than anything she'd ever wanted. She was wondering if he was in Shreveport with Eric, or if he'd gone back to Los Angeles and that damn whore. "Please tell me where Nuada is Eric." Grace asked, her voice strained to the breaking point in the stillness of that big damn hotel suite.

The corners of his mouth lifted at her request, and Eric knew the information Sookie gave him was correct – Grace had most definitely fallen for his friend. "Nuada is right here in Fangtasia Grace because he doesn't think you want him there with you." He told her gently. "And he'll come back, but you're gonna have to tell him you want him to."

Grace was hanging on every word, but she could feel the blood drain out of her face when Eric added that last part. She wanted Nuada to come back, but calling and begging? That was pushing it! Eric couldn't see her, but he knew Grace well enough to guess what her reaction was.

"You aren't scared of anything Grace, don't tell me you're too damn chicken to call the man you lived with for months on the god damned phone!" His voice cut across that telephone line, and Grace knew Eric was reaching his tolerance level for the night. Lord knows, she'd reached hers.

"Call him Grace." Eric commanded one last time, then the line went dead.

Sitting on that bed in South Carolina, Grace stared around the empty hotel room. She'd hidden from Nuada in that hotel room in Shreveport for weeks, now she was doing it again. Every time things got heated between the two of them, one or the other bolted for the door. The only way this was every going to change, is if one of them stepped up and stopped it. Sliding her eyes across the soft mauve comforter, Grace looked at her cell phone. Nuada gave her that number months ago, told her to call him anytime she wanted. Surely he wouldn't mind if she used it?

Her hands were shaking when Grace called up Nuada's number. Staring down at the face of that phone, Grace felt like the phone number displayed on that glowing LCD screen was the combination for opening Pandora's Box, and she wondered just how much shit she might be starting if she opened it. Refusing to give in, Grace just sat on that bed, relentlessly flipping that phone open and closed in agitation.

It was about thirty minutes later when her cell phone rang again. Grace was still sitting on the bed playing with it, completely lost in thought, and she nearly jumped off the bed it scared her so bad. "Hello?" she answered impatiently through a sniffle.

"You didn't call him." Eric's harsh voice came across the line, and Grace frowned. Obviously he talked to Nuada, and asked if she had called.

"Smartass." She answered sarcastically, her voice funny sounding because her nose was stopped up from crying.

"Dial the number Grace. He's waiting." Eric told her firmly, then the line went dead again.

The butterflies in her stomach were threatening to take over when Grace finally relented and opened that phone one last time. She hit that little green send button, and when Nuada's voice came over the other end she thought her heart would explode. Grace just sat there, completely incapable of saying anything, and after Nuada said "Hello?" the third time, she just snapped the phone shut.

Staring down at that magenta phone in her hand, Grace wondered if she should call Nuada back, wondering if he was angry at her for hanging up, or if he even cared at all. She didn't know why this was so hard for her, but it was. To admit you're weak and need someone was demoralizing to say the least, and the very thought of it made Grace blanch. Irritated, she headed for the little stocked hotel fridge, hoping something to drink might offer some type of diversion. Holding a Diet Dr. Pepper in her hand, she was staring at the phone as she walked, praying for courage to call him back as she fingered the send button.

"Hello Erulissë." The familiar voice said and even though she was half expecting it, it still shocked the shit out of Grace. She jumped, she couldn't help it and it took her a moment to collect herself before her eyes found their way over to Nuada. He was standing in the middle of that hotel room over by the bed, and those glowing emerald eyes were firmly locked on hers. Dressed in a pair of black jeans and one of those now infamous black silk shirts, Grace couldn't believe Nuada was real and not a figment of her imagination because he looked damn fantastic. She hadn't gotten a good look at her stunning guardian in Trey's shop because she'd been too busy watching those damn vampires, and in the truck it was just too dark, but she sure could see him now. Grace stared at him like he was the devil himself come to claim her, and he just tilted his head and stared right back.

"I was hoping you would call Erulissë." He told her quietly. "Although it does little good when you refuse to speak after you do."

Grace was standing on the opposite side of that bed from him, completely frozen. Her knees felt so weak, she didn't know that she could have moved if she wanted to, and she was completely incapable of tearing her eyes off him as he came around that bed toward her.

Nuada's voice was even and careful as he spoke, that expression completely blank and guarded, but those burning green eyes were on fire as they tore over her. "Was there something you wished to say to me Erulissë? Some reason you wish me to return?"

Grace was momentarily stunned. Her mind was still furious that Nuada refused to answer her questions, but her heart wanted him so bad she could literally taste it, and he was right in front of her. "I . . . I didn't ask you to leave." She managed to get out in a hoarse whisper.

His face softened at her words and Nuada reached to gently wrap those elegant fingers around hers, carefully taking her hand and placing it over his heart. As the warmth of that small hand seeped through his shirt, Nuada looked down at the little human woman who possessed that very heart her hand covered. Her face was stained with tears, and it was obvious Grace had been crying for some time. Her words were true, and his leaving had upset her terribly.

"You should have told me you felt this way Erulissë . . . had you simply spoken, I would have stayed." The whisper of that strange accented voice was wonderful against Grace's tormented ears, and she felt her whole body flush when he bent to kiss her, letting those soft lips linger on hers before drawing away.

"Please don't ever do that again," she said softly, nearly choking on the words as her emotions threatened to overrun her. A slow burning heat was sliding through her entire body, and Grace was desperate for Nuada to stay no matter what he did in Los Angeles, or what he might be getting paid for.

Slowly, Nuada put his arms around her, cradling the woman he loved against him, kissing her gently on top of her head. "You upset yourself for nothing Erulissë. I would never truly leave you." He told her softly, pulling away from her so he could look at her face, carefully reaching to cup her chin in his hand.

Those grey eyes were smoldering when they met his. The brush of his lips was nothing but torture, and Grace couldn't control the desires that were raging through her. Nuada tasted wonderful, he looked wonderful, and she knew firsthand just how wonderful that whole body standing in front of hers could make her feel. Burning blue flames traced under her skin, leaving no doubt what Grace was thinking about as Nuada ran his eyes over her.

"Erulissë . . . do you wish me to stay with you tonight?" he whispered softly. "You may say no . . . I shall be disappointed, but I shall honor your wishes." His emerald green eyes blazed as he searched her face for an answer, and Grace thought her heart would explode. Nuada was making himself available, but if she wanted him, she'd have to ask for it.

"Erulissë?" he prompted softly, his mouth drawing closer and closer to hers as he did, until finally his lips were on hers, and Grace felt like she was drowning. His touch was so gentle, his lips like velvet against hers, then he deepened it, drawing her face into his hands as he explored her mouth with this tongue. As he kissed her, Grace completely lost herself in him, allowing him to completely possess her mouth and her thoughts, letting herself think of nothing but his touch. When Nuada finally lifted his lips from hers, she was star struck and dazed. That poor girl didn't even know where she was.

Nuada was well aware of the effect he was having on Grace, but he also remembered her words from Fangtasia. If Grace was not ready to be possessed by a man again, he would not press that issue this night. Lifting his head, he simply lowered his hands to grasp hers, then kissed them carefully before returning to her mouth to plant the softest of caresses against on her lips.

His hand held hers as Nuada slowly drew her across that hotel suite toward the simple sofa on the far side of the room. "Saes Erulissë, sit and speak with me, and no more tears. Tell me what upsets you so."

Sinking onto that somewhat uncomfortable couch, those huge grey eyes were tormented as Grace looked over Nuada. She was trying desperately to force herself to talk to that magnificent creature in front of her, knowing if she didn't she might very well lose him forever. "You never answered my question Nuada. Did you go see that woman when you were in Los Angeles?" she was determined to keep her voice even, not hostile or accusing but Nuada immediately frowned, his face folding under the unpleasant weight of her words. That was one question that was obviously never going away until it got answered.

His mouth twitched as he considered it, the tiniest symbol that her words had hit a nerve deep within him, and Grace wondered what his answer would be. "Erulissë, why does that particular thing torment you so?" he finally asked, his voice carefully restrained, showing no hint of what he was thinking, or what an honest answer to it might be.

Frowning right back at him, Grace thought back to that big bite mark just shining on his neck, and it broke her heart all over again as she imagined him laying with some woman on Valentine's Day while she sat in her bed alone waiting for his sorry ass to not show up. Slowly counting backwards Grace fought to control her emotions and her mouth, silently thinking back to his words in her Escalade earlier that night . . . he didn't want part of her, he wanted all of her, and she felt the exact same way.

The next words out of her mouth were some of the hardest Grace had ever said in her life, and she couldn't believe she said them until she heard them herself. "I don't like the idea of you being with someone else . . ." Grace told him in a small, broken voice, "It hurts my feelings. . . I don't want to share you either."

Nuada frowned desperately at her even though her words were some of the most wonderful he'd ever heard before. He did go to Crash Mansion when he was in Los Angeles this last time . . . although his mind had been on her the entire time. Reaching toward her, Nuada took Haldir's pendant in his hand and absently rubbed his fingers across that heavy golden medallion. What was the difference between her calling for Haldir, and him going to see Serena?

A heaping lot, and Grace could tell he was struggling to find the right words, knowing she wasn't going to like his answer before he ever opened his mouth.

"Erulissë, you must understand something." He told her softly, his eyes still trained on that pendant in his hand. "Passing time in the arms of another does not equal honest pleasure . . . there is no substitute for the one who truly holds your affections."

It sounded great, but Grace could translate those pretty words right easily. I might be screwing my whore, but I'll be thinking about you the whole time honey! She wanted to puke, and the very thought made her so nauseous that was becoming a real possibility. "I didn't realize anyone was lucky enough to get your affections – not and keep them anyway." Grace snarled out in return, and it broke Nuada's heart. Expecting some smartass eloquent response, Grace was shocked when Nuada pulled her against him instead and buried his face in her hair.

"A'maelamin Erulissë!" he softly exclaimed, leaning away from her to look into her eyes. "My beloved Erulissë, you have held my affections for many moons. Never think that any other woman would steal them away!"

Ok, that was a classic WTF moment, because Grace didn't know where that comment came from and if it was a lie, it was his best one ever. She didn't get to think about it very long either, because that gorgeous man grabbed her and kissed her until she was incapable of even a simple thought. Her guardian had always stood firm that he would not seduce Grace, but love changed those rules dramatically. Nuada's heart now demanded he do anything necessary to obtain the love of the one he wanted so desperately.

Grace couldn't suppress the slight moan that escaped her at last, and it served as all the encouragement Nuada needed. He just pulled her closer, exploring every speck of her mouth with his tongue until she was literally drowning in the very essence of Nuada. Finally, he pulled away from her, breathless himself, shaken from being so close to her again, and his eyes flamed with passion as they met hers again.

Calling upon every single bit of intestinal fortitude he possessed, Nuada made himself say the words he felt Grace wanted to hear. "Erulissë, I shall gladly remain with you tonight if you so wish, and you may rest assured I shall be satisfied with no more than your presence."

Bull – Fucking – Shit.

Grace was hearing it, but she sure wasn't believing it and undoubtedly the expression on her face was a fantastic one. Looking at her, Nuada was trying so hard to be serious, but he was quickly reduced to gentle laughter, breaking the tension of the moment for them both. He shook his head, and said his favorite phrase to her yet again. "Erulissë, you never fail to surprise me!"

She laughed back at him, and the moment soon passed. The easy comfort between them seemed to instantly return, and the two were content to sit for the next several hours snuggling against the other on the couch. Nuada was ever careful of his movements, determined he would not place hand or mouth on her in an overly suggestive way. That possessive hand on his thigh told him Grace certainly wouldn't care, but Nuada was determined he would court her property, woo her affections, make her love him in return.

The night passed pleasantly, but it was extremely late, and Grace was yawning repeatedly by the time Nuada kissed her forehead yet again. "You must rest, Erulissë. If it pleases you I can remain the night, or return in the morning."

Grace sat back from him, sleepy grey eyes meeting bright green as she thought about that, not wanting him to leave her again so soon. "Please don't leave." She whispered softly, her hand clutching his arm, silently begging him to stay.

Nuada took a deep breath. He certainly didn't want to leave her either, but he didn't want to do anything either of them would regret either. "Erulissë . . ." his melodic voice began, only to find it silenced by the small tanned fingers pressed against it.

"Nuada, either you want to be with me or you don't. It's that simple." It wasn't that simple, and they both knew it, but he knew what she was saying to him, knew what she was asking from him, knew the hidden meaning there. Leave her again, and there would be no invitation to return.

"I have not forgotten your words to me Erulissë, and I wish to remind you of mine. I desire to know your heart just as much as I desire the pleasure of your touch. I shall not possess you again, not until the proper time." he told her firmly, taking in her shocked expression with satisfaction.

Grace stared at him like he was insane, but that green eyes stare told Grace he was throwing the gauntlet down, daring her to take the challenge. Nuada didn't just want her body, he wanted her, and wasn't that what she'd been saying over and over again throughout this entire ordeal . . . that she wanted him to stay with her because he cared, not because he was being forced to or paid to?

Her eyes narrowed as she smiled at him. "Ok Nuada." She told him softly, the seductive tone catching his interest immediately. "We'll see who gives in first."

That wicked grin told Grace everything she needed to know as Nuada bent to kiss her again, and when that silky curtain of hair moved out of her sight, Grace was stunned to find herself not on that tacky hotel room couch, but on his. Chuckling softly at her shocked expression, Nuada leaned ever closer across that sumptuous leather. If she was shocked now, he was about to finish her off.

"I hear there are many ways besides possession to bring pleasure to a human woman." He told her suggestively, running those intense green eyes over her carefully. "I will admit Erulissë, while I am not familiar with your kind, I would be a most willing pupil if you would allow me the honor of exploring each and every one of them with you."


	34. Sex Games and Saviors

Chapter 34 – Sex Games and Saviors

"Take it off," he whispered.

His words instantly stilled her movements. Nuada was standing so close behind her, Grace could feel the warmth of his breath tracing against her neck, but he was not touching her, nor would he so long as Haldir's pendant hung around her neck. By asking her to remove it, Nuada was issuing an invitation. If she complied with his request, Grace was agreeing to play yet another round of their strange sexual game.

Tired of being dominated by him, Grace chose not to give him the satisfaction of immediate cooperation. "Say please," she answered softly.

The next breath to hit her flesh was harshly exhaled, telling Grace she had just surprised Nuada with her refusal. She couldn't help the little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Conceited asshole.

"Take it off Erulissë," he repeated firmly, but Grace did not budge.

Emerald eyes narrowed slightly, studying the stubborn creature standing only inches in front of him. Nuada had Grace sandwiched between his body and the huge stainless steel refrigerator she just closed, and his mind swirled with ideas of how to take advantage of that unique position. To encourage her, the devious man leaned in so close that his long blond hair fell along the exposed flesh of her shoulders, moist lips pursing as he blew a tantalizing breath into her ear. The underhanded tactic threw waves of tiny shivers all along the upper portion of her body, forcing all the little hairs of her body to stand on end, right down to the tiniest wisps on her hands. He smirked.

Ignoring her body's response, Grace remained carefully impassive. "Say please . . . Nuada," she answered, emphasizing his name the same as he'd done hers. Both were determined not to give, yet each wanted the exact same thing. Someone would have to yield . . . or get creative.

A slight smile began to creep across Nuada's face. Seemed they were going to play a slightly different game tonight, and he was certainly a willing participant. He had no intentions of saying please, but Grace would beg before this was over. A purposeful arm clad in immaculate black silk reached past her, heading toward the controls on the front of that appliance. Ice rained down on the floor, and when that hand drew back, there was a single crescent shaped cube grasped in those fingers.

Taking the frozen water he intended to use as a torture instrument to his mouth, Nuada gently rolled it with his tongue for a moment, rounding the corners. He didn't intend to scratch her, but he did very much intend to torment her. Intentionally smacking his lips when he popped the cube from his mouth, Nuada made sure there was enough moisture left on that ice cube to release a single perfect drop of water onto the very center of her neck, exactly where he wanted it.

Grace knew it was coming, but the chill was certainly too much to be ignored. It took everything she had to remain still when Nuada took that piece of ice and put the tip of it directly in the center of that drop of water. Ever so carefully he worked it up the gentle crease in the center of her neck, right up to the edge of her hair, then he went back down again. Tracing the curve of her spine, he painstakingly traversed that cube right down her flesh until he hit fabric, but that didn't deter him one bit. Slowly, he crawled it along the entire back neckline of that shirt, finally placing it flat side down and dragging it across her shoulders, watching in satisfaction as tiny rivers of water ran down her skin, leaving little damp rows of temptation behind them. Every inch of her body was covered in goose flesh by the time he got finished, and he knew she was ready to scream.

Taking the ice cube away, Nuada leaned ever so close, making sure the heat of his breath would touch her cool damp flesh. His voice was like warm satin when he spoke again, seductive and tempting. "Take it off Erulissë, and I will not ask again, nor will I say please."

More than ready to up the ante, Grace complied with his request . . . sort of. Without hesitation, she did take it off, pulling that tank top right over her head and dropping it to the floor in dramatic fashion. She had on Nuada's very favorite bra and panty set from Victoria secret, those dusty grey lace confections the exact color of summer storm clouds and a perfect match to her eyes. The creature all but drooled every time he saw them on her.

"You missed a spot," she told him with a snicker.

Genuinely surprised, Nuada took a moment to plot his next course of action, then he smiled softly. Silently conjuring his war blade to his hand, he delicately slid the razor sharp edge under the left shoulder strap of her bra, watching Grace tense as she tried to figure out what on earth he was doing . . . and what he was touching her with. Without a sound, he severed that bra strap, watching with intense enjoyment as a look of pure shock ran over her face. It was all he could do to keep from chuckling when he moved to the other side, the blade effortlessly cutting through the intricate fabric yet again. Nuada saw her entire body go rigid when he ever so carefully slipped the tip of that knife against the back closure of her undergarment, and she held her breath while he sliced through it like warm butter. He grinned when in hit the floor.

"I like to be thorough," he whispered, laying the knife on the counter beside them.

Again that black silk became visible as Nuada went for the ice maker, an elegant hand retrieving yet another cube intent on teasing. So long as his flesh did not touch hers, he was well within the rules of their game to continue this . . . to see how long it took before one of them broke. The ice was once more tasted by a heated tongue before finding its way against the skin of her neck, Nuada watching in satisfaction as Grace almost imperceptibly tilted her head to the side to grant him better access. She was enjoying this as much as he was.

Her short hair was an advantage to Nuada, offering free access to her neck and ears, and he used it. Knowing how sensitive Grace was of particular areas, Nuada took that cube and gently traced the outer edges of her ear, taking particular care to ease it back and forth over the softly rounded lobe a few times. He was standing slightly to her side so he could see her expressions, and he watched with pleasure as Grace closed her eyes.

She was becoming aroused, and it was manifesting itself through the blue flickers beginning to race beneath her flesh. Grace soon began melting that ice cube as fast as Nuada could press it to her skin, and within seconds only several tiny rivers of moisture remained. Opening her eyes, Grace glimpsed that he was about to reach for that icemaker again, and she stopped him by quickly flipping round to face him. He froze. The sight of her bare body in front of him was tantalizing to say the very least, but the sight of that pendant hanging between her exposed breasts was enough to agitate him to an infinite level. "Take it off," he insisted, not nearly as politely as before.

"Oh, I believe I will," Grace readily agreed, walking forward until she had Nuada backed firmly against the kitchen island in a vain attempt to keep out of physical contact with her. She planted herself so close the tips of her nipples were in real danger of brushing the front of his shirt when he breathed, and when he involuntarily licked his lips, Grace giggled. "Refresh my memory," she drawled out seductively, "but the rules say you can't touch me . . . but I don't remember there being anything about me touching you."

She completed that spoken thought with a silent one – a powerful mental command reducing the black silk shirt Nuada was wearing to nothing more than a trickle of dust slowly drifting to the floor. It was a feat Grace had perfected over time, and something that had cost Nuada countless custom tailored shirts. He couldn't care less, and Grace knew it. Grace also knew that before Nuada snuck up behind her, she had placed a fruit plate on that kitchen counter, along with a fresh glass of ice just waiting for that drink she was retrieving before she was so pleasantly interrupted. Ammunition was close at hand.

Casually reaching around him, Grace grabbed a piece of honeydew melon from the plate, casually sucking on it while running her eyes over Nuada's lips, intentionally heating them without moving one muscle. "Wanna taste?" she asked, her eyes purely smoldering as she brought them up to meet his. Grace knew he did, and that white fire burning in those emerald depths clearly said so, but that stubborn man wasn't making a sound, which was fine . . . two could play this game . . . and two people had indeed been playing it for some time now.

The past several months had become a case study in the art of seduction, and not just for Nuada and Grace. In the elven realm Haldir and Cerylia were doing plenty of exploring themselves. While Haldir had no serious past relationships to speak of, he was well educated in bringing a female pleasure, and while Cerylia was not experienced at all, she found herself to be a most willing pupil to his lessons in mutual satisfaction. Grace was a most willing pupil herself, finding Nuada to be doing much more teaching of pleasure than learning about it, and in two different worlds, two very different woman were extremely happy.

Life had resumed very much as it left off after Grace's impromptu trip to South Carolina. She and Nuada had fallen into an easy relationship, and while Eric was irritated to no end by her interaction with Sebastian, he got over it quickly enough. The Sheriff of Area 5 had to promise the powerful vampire from South Carolina a visit to Fangtasia for a look around in order to guarantee Grace's safe return home, but he doubted the offer was ever accepted. Eric recognized Sebastian for the competent business man he was, a vampire always in search of a way to get ahead, and he sincerely hoped Grace would stay out of South Carolina from now on because he'd hate to think one day she might just provide it.

Thoughts of returning to her home state were not foremost on Grace's mind anyway. The brief visit both soothed and disturbed her, and she was determined to content herself with life in Louisiana. Days were occupied with work and sunbathing, nights were spent with friends and Nuada, and Grace even came to enjoy those infrequent and often brief visits from her great-grandfather. Throughout it all, Grace and Sookie became closer and closer. While Sookie shared a blood bond with Eric, and Grace was bound to both Haldir and Nuada, nothing compared to the bond those two cousins shared. The mental link was nothing short of astonishing, and no phone was even necessary for one of them to know exactly what the other felt or who they were with. Each girl could easily finish the others sentences, and in some odd way they completed each other.

Not long after her return, Alcide Herveaux approached Grace about another large project , surprising her by coming right to her house to talk about this one. The attractive werewolf stood on her doorstep, anxiously waiting for her to answer it, politely offering to take her to that long lost lunch they'd never had, but Grace refused as always. His smile told her that was what he was expecting as an answer, and Alcide honestly wasn't the least bit offended. He was there on business, and Grace could only smile when he quickly returned to his truck to retrieve that huge pile of paperwork after she invited him inside.

Only slightly surprised by what he came to say, Grace came to understand that someone wanted to build on the lot next to Eric's. Impressed by the Northman home, they wondered if she would design their house. It was going to be similar, and she'd done such a fantastic job on his would she do it again? Grace frowned, but agreed to take a look. The other projects she'd been doing were small things, renovations, additions and such - simple things Grace could quickly finish and be done with. An entire house of that size was quite a job, and Grace didn't know that she wanted to tackle something so complex right then.

Her mind changed immediately when Alcide showed her the sketches and photos. While it was similar to Eric's, it was also completely different and it spoke to Grace the same way Eric's had spoken to Sookie. The thing was magnificent, and Grace immediately agreed to do the plans. Alcide left with a huge smile on his face, and Grace found herself smiling to. The new project would keep her occupied for quite some time to come.

Nuada found his thoughts and time being occupied as well, and they were being occupied by Grace. The odd little human never failed to surprise him with something, and his affections for her grew every day. Nuada thought Grace was simply adorable. He accepted her complete disregard for proper clothing, and he simply smiled at the fact that she cursed like a sailor. Always in her bare feet, never shy about anything, always direct and unabashed with her comments, blaring her obnoxious music to mind bending levels . . . everything about Grace made him smile.

The powerful creature was continually amazed by her antics, shaking his head at her and saying the same phrase to her each time she did something unexpected – "Erulissë, you are full of surprises!" – and Grace always was. As the weeks wore on, the weather grew warmer, and there was nothing Grace adored more than her time spent in the sun, scampering about in less and less clothing, but Nuada held firm to his promise not to possess her again, and to heed Savan's words of warning. It had proven to be a most unenviable task to desire a creature that he could not have, but Nuada had learned to compensate – sating his raging desires through increasingly cold visits to Serena, sharing not so much as a common greeting with the whore, but using her to appease his needs simply because he starved for relief. But what Nuada truly starved for was Grace, and indeed she starved for him as well, so they'd come up with a unique compromise of sex games that pleased them both. The wide variety of torturous sexual experimentation kept them both burning hotter than fire nearly all of the time, and Grace would have gladly relented at any moment, but Nuada remained strong for them both, knowing he could not truly share himself with Grace again until that transfer was completed – and it was a day that surely could not come quickly enough.

********************************

That particular day nestled into the center of May was hot in Louisiana, and Grace dearly loved hot weather. Her very soul needed the sun to shine down on it, and she'd taken that particular Thursday to enjoy it. Nuada decided to enjoy it as well, and he was hoping they'd do it together. Constant trips to Los Angeles and long days in the Shreveport office were wearing on him, so Nuada decided on an impromptu afternoon off. Quiet time with Grace always soothed him, comforting something deep within his very soul, and he found himself in need of that warm human touch as he drove across Shreveport leaving a message on Eric's cell phone as he drove. A long afternoon spent snuggling on the couch with Grace and perhaps a quiet dinner, followed up by some late night conversation with Eric and a well deserved sparring session seemed like the perfect solution to his boredom, and Nuada found himself almost excited when that black Jaguar came purring into Grace's neat concrete driveway.

Surprise visits were now common between Nuada and Grace, but this particular one caught them both somewhat unprepared. Coming into the little white house, Nuada found it oddly empty although the Escalade was in the drive. Heading for the backyard, her guardian suddenly found himself confronted by something he was not expecting. Grace had been doing laundry, and on the line hung the widest assortment of delicate lacy things Nuada had ever seen. A complete Victoria Secret catalog would offer less food for thought, and while Nuada did not shop for women's underclothes, he could certainly appreciate the sight of them – a lot.

It was a virtual rainbow of lace confections just flipping in the gentle breeze, and both Nuada's brain and his groin responded to the sight immediately. If that hadn't been enough to assault his senses, Grace herself was stretched out in a lounge chair, carefully oiled to her last inch. The delicate scent of some intoxicating tropical oil came wafting his way, all the while his eyes were devouring those mere scraps of black fabric Grace was trying to pass off as a bathing suit. Seeing the undergarments was bad enough, but having her bare body in front of him to picture wearing them was something else entirely.

Nuada found himself incapable of thinking for a moment, overcome with burning desire as his eyes ran over her. For months now they had played this intriguing sexual cat and mouse game between them, but at that very moment, he did not feel like any cat . . . He felt very much like a hungry predator on the prowl, and he could have eaten her alive. Watching Grace get out of the chair and lead him into the house, Nuada said nothing, but his mind was on fire. He fought hard to remain composed, but standing in her kitchen moments later, that good looking blond could picture Grace in every single one of the alluring items on that laundry line, and he could easily picture her without them. Flesh that tasted like warm air and sunshine soon found itself beneath his lips, fingers gently teasing against smooth skin permeated by the odd scent of coconuts . . . It had been less than twenty-four hours since he felt that warm body pressed against his, but it felt like months, and within seconds Nuada's very blood began to boil.

When Grace found herself not so gently pressed against the wall in her kitchen, she didn't mind one bit, and when Nuada's teeth started pulling at the ties of her top, she was thrilled. Pale hands that had laboriously devoted themselves to learning the art of pleasing a human woman were instantly teasing at those tiny triangles of fabric that covered her, and within minutes Grace was groaning beneath his touch.

Her hands were buried in that long blond hair, and the firm male hand that gripped her thigh had that leg nearly wrapped around his waist as Nuada ground himself against her. No, Amarande Nuada still could not fully possess her body until that transfer was completed, but never had he desired something so deeply in his long life. Grace was everything he wanted, everything he could ever want . . . and he intended to tell her so. Five perfect pale fingers found their way to caress her cheek as his mouth reluctantly released hers. His body stilled against her, and emerald eyes glowing with love and desire met burning grey ones as Nuada prepared to speak. The moment was perfect, the timing was right, and if that blackberry had not started ringing incessantly, Nuada would have told Grace he loved her.

"Leave it," Grace whispered into his ear, wrapping her tongue around that extremely sensitive spot she had recently discovered, knowing it would immediately elicit the perfect little moan from under his breath.

It did, only that moan was followed by a much louder one as Nuada relented and grabbed that damn phone from his pocket. The scowl was instant when he saw the number, and Grace met it with one of her own after Nuada released her completely, choosing instead to pace the kitchen while reeling off numerical figures into it. While he may have somewhat ignored his business interests when Grace first returned from Rivendell, Nuada had returned to them with a vengeance after the first of the year, and she wanted to make him eat that damn cell phone every time it rang.

This was one of the most inopportune interruptions yet, and Grace found herself suddenly disappointed beyond comprehension. She was more than ready to forget all about her previous reservations, and Lord Elrond's words were forgotten. Grace knew exactly what she wanted, and it was stalking back and forth within the confines of her kitchen at that very moment. Grace once told Eric Northman she would fuck him until he screamed on the hood of his Corvette , and right then she would've made Nuada do much more than scream if he'd just put down that phone.

Grace was more than ready, and she was certainly willing and able. Unfortunately her guardian wasn't, and when Nuada gently smiled and pushed Grace away when she tried to unbutton his shirt, she could have slapped him. It only got worse when Nuada finally did cut that phone off, and told her he was going to Los Angeles right that very moment. Laying those Jaguar keys on her kitchen counter, Nuada prepared to leave, and she was stunned.

"Don't go Nuada, please . . . we have discussed this! Think about what you could be doing instead!" Her voice was pleading, sultry and suggestive and Grace truly meant every word. Her blood was boiling hotter than Nuada's was, and there were so very many things that man could find himself doing if he'd just stay.

"This is most important Erulissë. I must go, and I do not know that I will return this evening."

His voice was gentle and persuasive when he spoke to Grace, but she just burned with resentment. Los Angeles was the only subject they argued about, and it was a terrible one each and every time. There had been more than enough "late nights" at the office in Los Angeles for Grace to tolerate from Nuada, and she wasn't stupid. If he wasn't getting it from her, he was getting it from somewhere. Just before Nuada popped himself away, Grace caught him by the arm. She didn't know why, but she had a terrible feeling about tonight. "Nuada, please stay." Grace practically begged. "Please don't go to Los Angeles and do something you're gonna regret."

Nuada knew exactly what she was telling him, and for a moment he did stop. Somewhere in the very back of his mind there was a little alarm bell going off too, and Nuada hesitated. He did sincerely want to stay with Grace, he wanted to make love to her, and he wanted to tell her that he loved her. Those emerald eyes were torn as they ran over every astonishing inch of her, but against the very begging of his own soul, Nuada chose to ignore every sensation that was telling him to stay.

"Everything will be fine, Erulissë," he told her softly. "I shall call if I do not return tonight."

Grace was staring at Nuada the way a dog does when it hears a high pitched sound – this absolutely could not be happening! He had come to her house for a peaceful afternoon off, they were on the verge of having sex for the first time in months, and Grace knew Nuada had been about to say something very important before that damn phone rang - now he was going to leave?

Huge grey eyes burnt with flames as they ran over that gorgeous blond creature, her expression telling Nuada she would most likely kill him if he disappeared at that very moment, and if only for a moment, Nuada thought better of it. He quickly crossed the kitchen, taking her face in his hands so fast Grace barely knew he did it. "I promise - I will return to you." He told her firmly.

Nuada emphasized the word promise because he knew it would make Grace happy. She'd learned that when an elf made a promise they could not break it, and every time he used it, she was pleased. Nuada was not an elf and that promise rule in no way applied to him, but whatever it took to get out the door at that moment worked for him.

Grace was frowning violently when Nuada leaned to kiss her goodbye, and he took a moment to linger, staring into those beautiful grey eyes that were so angry, then planting a gentle kiss on her forehead as he held her hands. "I must go Erulissë." He told her, releasing one hand to draw a finger down her cheek. "Please . . . you worry for nothing. I shall return soon. Until then, please call me should you need to hear my voice." As he was speaking, he was backing away from her, returning to the center of that kitchen, and with one more lingering look, he was gone.

Had Nuada known that would be the last time his lips or that finger would touch Grace for the next several months, he would have certainly taken his time. Better yet, he would have done what she asked - he would have remained by her side just as she begged him too. Unfortunately, Nuada left Grace, and it was a decision he would forever regret.

Nuada was not the only man who got called away for business that night. Haldir of Lórien was thoroughly enjoying a little pleasure time of his own with Cerylia when he was summoned as well. There was business to attend, a patrol in need of assistance along one of the border fences and he was needed. His farewell was hardly longer than Nuada's and his peck against her forehead just as informal. Cerylia was left feeling as abandoned as Grace was, and little did either woman know their paths would be crossing that very night.

********************************

Eric Northman meant no harm when he called Grace a little after dark and inquired where Nuada was – he was simply returning his friends calls and attempting to solidify their plans for later – but the vicious rant of profanity that met his ears left little doubt where his friend had gone, or who Grace thought he was with, and Eric struggled to calm his human friend. The vampire had doubts about Nuada and his frequent trips to Los Angeles himself, and while he dearly adored his friend, there were rules in relationships that deserved to be upheld. Eric didn't want to see Grace hurt. She'd been through enough, and if Nuada hurt her again, there was going to be hell to pay.

A concerned phone call from Sookie came some time later, and it gave even that ancient vampire the pure chills. When Nuada was gone, Grace was ranting and Sookie was concerned it equaled disaster. That tight knit little group of friends seemed to have bonded on an almost subliminal level, and when something was wrong with one of them, each and every other one knew it. Even Eric had a creepy feeling about tonight that he couldn't shake, and he was concerned enough to ask Sookie to either come to him after work or allow him to come pick her up. Something was hanging on the air, and it was most unpleasant.

Finding himself unable to sit still, Eric called Grace again later that evening inviting her to join him at Fangtasia as well. Whatever was going on, it was drawing closer, he simply knew it. He had been unable to raise Nuada on the phone, and that wasn't helping. The only thing that was helping at all was the fact that Sookie was on her way from Bon Temps. It was now nearly ten o'clock in the evening, well past dark, and all Eric could do was wait and wonder.

Grace refused Eric's invitation to join her cousin and him at the club. She was sunburnt and annoyed at Nuada, and Grace knew herself well enough to know her mood was better suited for being at home. She'd contented herself working on a variety of things for Alcide that afternoon to pass the time, but as it grew later and later, she didn't hear from Nuada and Grace became concerned herself. Grace still refused to call Nuada on the telephone, although he called her often, and she silently decided not to relent tonight either. His leaving earlier that evening had been unacceptable, and Grace silently made up her mind that the next time she saw him she'd tell him exactly what she thought . . . problem was, that little human woman had no idea just how interesting the next time she saw Nuada was actually going to be.

Bored, agitated and finding it impossible to sit still, Grace drug herself from the computer room to the kitchen, deciding she may as well deal with the few dishes in the sink instead of leaving them till morning. Listening to the scalding hot water fill the sink, she stared out her window into the darkness, wondering where on earth Nuada was, and if he was truly in Los Angeles working on business or if he was working on that whore. The terrible thought worried her to no end, and Grace found it very hard to concentrate on what she was doing, scrubbing furiously on the glasses until they gleamed.

When she ran out of dishes to scrub, Grace went after the counters, and even the top of the stove. By the time she was finished, over an hour had passed and her kitchen could have been photographed for Better Homes and Gardens. Realizing there was nothing left to clean, she went to her bedroom, deciding she might as well get dressed for bed even though she knew she wasn't going to sleep. Since staying in Rivendell, she had taken to wearing beautiful white nightgowns with pretty embroidery on them from time to time. The shifts she wore when she was there disgusted her, but now she found herself wanting to wear things that reminded her of the beautiful place occasionally, and for some reason she had elves on the brain that night. Smiling softly as she took her latest purchase from the tissue paper wrapping, Grace left her bra on and slid it over her head.

The gown was snow white, stunningly beautiful and covered in intricate detailing. Made of soft Egyptian cotton, it had a smooth sheen to it, hanging from small pleats all around the neckline to where it stopped right above her knees. There was gorgeous embroidery and little ribbon flowers and seed pearls all over it, and it seemed much to pretty to sleep in . . . but it certainly wasn't too pretty for Nuada to take it off and throw on the floor when he returned! After slipping it on, she made her way to the bathroom, carefully combing her hair, pulling her bangs out of her face and securing them with a clip so she could wash the makeup from her face. Angry or not, the heat Nuada stirred earlier that afternoon still burned, and Grace sincerely hoped he would be returning shortly to quench it.

Finally satisfied with her appearance, Grace made her way back to the kitchen for a drink from the fridge, figuring she would sit and read until she got tired enough to go lay down. Her cell phone was close by, just waiting for that all important telephone call from Nuada, and Grace was standing at the sink twisting the top from a Diet Dr. Pepper when she heard the distinct pop of an elf in her den. She didn't turn around, simply smiled when she called out, "Nuada . . . how was the meeting?" When she got no answer, she did turn around, and nearly fainted when she saw Glorfindel standing there.

His face looked grim and she knew something terrible was wrong. The hulking elf warrior was obviously injured, a huge slash cutting across his face, deep red blood slowly dripping from his chin and splattering against her floor. "My God Glorfindel, what the hell happened to you?" Grace finally managed to say, stunned to her very core by the sight in front of her. Instincts took over, and she simultaneously slammed that drink on the counter and grabbed the nearest dishrag, determined to stop the flow of blood from the huge cut.

The golden warrior had the deepest frown she'd ever seen, looking almost like he was in some state of shock, and he pushed her hands away. "Pinilyaer, I come to ask your return with me to the elf realm. A General has fallen." Grace was still trying to get to that giant cut on his face, and it took a minute for the words to sink in. Fear grew in her eyes as comprehension of their meaning washed over her.

"Haldir?" she managed to whisper. Glorfindel had the strangest expression on his face she'd ever seen, his cool grey eyes were bursting with emotion, and Grace felt the very blood in her veins go cold.

"Yes," Glorfindel managed to answer, "we must go quickly little one! His time grows very short".

Grace never hesitated, just grabbed his hand and instantly they were standing in a different place. Looking around, she realized they were certainly not in Rivendell, and it took her a few minutes to realize they were back in the marchwarden camp. She'd been here twice before now, but they were approaching a building she'd not been inside before, and they were coming from a different direction.

"What is this place?" Grace asked, scared of what she was about to face.

Glorfindel was much more interested in getting her inside than talking to her, and he barely glanced her way when he answered. "This is another part of the camp Haldir stands General over. Come Pinilyaer." He said firmly, taking her arm and leading her toward a large, low wooden building.

Huge double wooden doors stood open to the darkness, faint light creeping out to reveal armed marchwardens and large horses milling about. Every head turned to stare at Grace in curiosity, and she couldn't help but stare back. Nothing was familiar, but as Grace approached the door, she suddenly realized Cairbre was there. His typically pleasant expression had been replaced by a look of deep shock, and the silver haired elf looked strangely lost as he stood in the doorway. Relief visibly washed over her friend when his eyes met hers, and Grace could see blood on the front of his clothes. She could not imagine what she would find inside. Silently joining them, the odd threesome walked into the great hall three across – Grace in the middle with Cairbre on her left and Glorfindel on her right.

It was quite an entrance, and every eye in that room turned to see, every mouth fell silent to hear. The building was nothing more than one very large room with various tables and chairs all around the perimeter. It was dark and warm inside, and everything was made of deep colored wood from the furniture to the walls and floor. The men parted in front of Glorfindel as he approached, and Grace found a clear path being made for them instantly.

There must have been at least fifty men in that long wooden hall, all dressed in various forms of combat attire, all carrying large swords and bows with quills of arrows on their backs, and Grace knew these were Haldir's men. Many of these very marchwardens had seen the violent fight between Grace and Haldir that night in the arena, and all had heard about the unusual healing abilities of the strange human from the earthly realm. They also knew that she carried with her the Marchwarden's Pendant of Protection bestowed upon her by Haldir of Lórien himself, and they were scared shitless of her.

While many had seen her dressed in black that night as she raged against Haldir and his brothers so violently, tonight Grace presented a much different sight, and they all stared at her in wonder like an angel was come to walk among them. Grace looked very small, standing more than a foot shorter than either of her escorts and her bare feet seemed to float across the floor with that snowy white gown swirling around her. Her skin was dark from the sun, while they were pale and her dark hair hung around her face in tiny waves with wild flaming streaks in it. The strange little human was certainly unlike any other creature they'd ever seen.

While they were openly staring at her, Grace didn't even bother to glance at the men around her save to see where she was going. That intense grey gaze was firmly locked ahead of her, anxious to catch a glimpse of Haldir, terrified of what she was going to see. Finally, Grace did see, and it was as horrible as she imagined. The obviously broken and blood soaked form of an elf was laid out on a simple wooden table, and her heart knew instantly who that elf was.

Haldir . . . she nearly choked and it took everything Grace had to remain calm and not run to that table screaming his name. They got to it soon enough, and when they grew close Glorfindel and Cairbre stepped away so Grace approached him alone. Orophin and Rumil were standing on either side of him, and in some very odd way, they seemed extremely relieved to see her as well. There were many other marchwardens lingering nearby, and she could see them staring openly at the pendant she wore around her neck . . . Grace hadn't even realized it was laying outside of her nightgown, and at that moment, she was only concerned about its owner.

The brothers also stepped back from Haldir as Grace approached, and she came to stand in front of the table alone. Stunned into disbelief, Grace could hardly comprehend what her eyes were seeing. Haldir had been mauled ridiculously by some creature. There were huge claw marks slashed across his face, one arm hung limply at his side, and Grace could see a huge gaping wound in his side where his clothes had been cut away. Deep red blood had pooled on the table around him, enough to slowly drip onto the floor, and the dark crimson puddle was actually touching her bare feet as she stood there. His eyes were closed, his flesh pale as death, and the faintest movement of his chest was the only thing that convinced her Haldir of Lórien was not dead.

"Oh Haldir," she whispered as the tears began to silently slip down her cheeks.

Closing her eyes, Grace drew every bit of strength within her, then opened them again. The bright blue glow slowly washed over her, and the men in the hall drew in a collective gasp as she stepped closer. Ever so gently, Grace laid those small tanned hands on Haldir, first focusing on that terrible wound in his side. It was so deep it took minutes instead of moments to close, and Grace knew her beloved elf had been very near death, not even knowing how he held on that long. Next, she moved her hands to his arm and felt it slowly mend beneath her fingers. Lastly, she put her hands to his face and gently ran them along each and every cut there. They silently closed, but Grace could see deep scars where they had been.

While everyone stared, Grace stood beside that table, completely oblivious to any and every thing, her hands firmly planted on the chest of that elf. She did not notice the blood that was beginning to seep onto her beautiful white gown, nor did she care. The breath that was ever so painfully being sucked into Haldir's lungs was the only thing that concerned Grace at that moment, and she stood right there until they began to come slow and steady, just as they should be. Relief swept over her, and Grace gently ran her hands across his forehead, then kissed him ever so softly on the cheek.

Everyone who watched this strange healing process was amazed. Even Rumil and Orophin could not believe their eyes, and they themselves had experienced her healing touch firsthand. Glorfindel was the most impressed of all. The raw power of this strange little human with her bare feet and bare face in no more than a shift had just effortlessly repaired someone on the very brink of death, and he was stunned.

Oblivious to their attention, Grace finally turned to Glorfindal, speaking for the very first time. " He'll be fine." She told him in a strange voice that did not seem to belong to her. The relief that came over everyone's face was apparent, but something far different was creeping across hers.

"What did this to him?" she demanded. "Who or what is responsible for this?" Grace was glancing around at the various marchwardens surrounding her, knowing a number of them spoke english. As was becoming her way, Grace wanted a damn answer. She expected an explanation for the condition she just found Haldir in, and she backed up her demand with as frightening a look as even Glorfindel had ever seen.

"It is a creature, an animal you call them . . . the warg, it lives," Glorfindel told her roughly.

Grace slid her rapidly darkening eyes from that towering blond elf to the others and back again as the anger began to wash over her, her eyes growing black as night, her skin returning to that firefly glow Haldir's brothers were slowly becoming accustomed to. "Well it will die tonight!" She growled out furiously.

Rumil gave Grace an alarmed look as she suddenly focused on him, actually taking a threatening step closer. "You take me to the thing that did this right this minute!" she demanded, her voice shaking with fury, actually scaring him enough to back a step away from her.

Haldir's brother remembered what the tree Grace slammed him into felt like, and those heavy wooden timbers that formed the walls of that hall would be none more forgiving. He was looking to Glorfindel for guidance, as was Orophin. They didn't speak the English language, but it was very easy to see that Grace wanted something, and so far as they were concerned, that human girl was welcome to it.

Cairbre was standing with them as well, and he also looked to Glorfindel for direction as he quickly explained to the brothers what it was Grace was demanding. Unfortunately there was a little something lost in translation – they thought Grace wanted to go see the creature, not go kill the creature. The marchwarden who was her friend was familiar enough with the human's temper to know exactly what Grace really wanted, and he was stunned when he received an approving nod from Rumil.

In his brother's stead, Rumil commanded the guard, and so far as Haldir's brother was concerned, Grace healed Haldir and she was therefore entitled to ask for compensation, even if it came by way of permission to see the very creature that harmed him. They'd both endured that human's wrath, and they knew Grace was capable of inflicting damage every bit at severe as any warrior could. That clearing was heavily guarded, and Grace could take care of herself. No harm would come from taking her to see the creature.

Cairbre stared at Glorfindel in complete disbelief, refusing to move until the oldest and most powerful elf there gave his approval, and Cairbre prayed he did not. Grace might be able to heal and fight, but special powers aside, no human should be allowed within any proximity of a warg! When that massive gold head nodded, Cairbre couldn't believe it and honestly neither could Glorfindel. That elf knew what they were doing was wrong, but he allowed his curiosity to overrule his common sense and agreed to let it happen.

Stunned into silence, Cairbre took Grace by the arm and guided her toward the door. Orophin stayed behind with Haldir, while Rumil followed them closely, as did Glorfindel. As they came out the door, Cairbre turned to Grace, searching her face, wishing she would change her mind. "We will have to ride," he warned her gently.

Grace looked around at the horses and immediately saw the great black stallion. Seraphim was as magnificent there in the darkness as he had been the day she first saw him in Rivendell. Untethered, Seraphim stood bareback but harnessed and ready to ride. Not even waiting for a leg up, Grace simply climbed onto a nearby stump and she was on that horse in under a minute. The other elves were instantly on their horses as well, and with Seraphim rearing in anticipation the small group was off to find the creature.

They gave the horses their head and flew through the forest in the darkness. Grace was an accomplished rider, and she knew how to handle the horse. Seraphim was as magnificent to ride as his owner was, and Grace found herself pleased to be handling such a fine animal. It took them a good 15-20 minute gallop to reach their destination and when they did, Grace could immediately sense danger. Seraphim was immediately on guard, dancing around in circles after she slid from his back.

Carefully hidden marchwardens silently appeared from the forest around them, openly confused to see Rumil, Glorfindel, Cairbre and a little human woman in a white nightgown dismounting their General's steed. Their confusion turned to overwhelming relief when Rumil informed them that their General would live, and hearing that nothing had changed since his departure, the brother to Haldir who was now in charge turned to Caribre, and ordered him to explain that night's events to Grace.

Horrible, vile creatures know as orcs lived in the elven realm, and while they typically kept out of elven territory, they bred an awful creature for war and hunting. Massive in stature and more ferocious that an earthly grizzly bear, these wargs as they were called could gallop as fast as a horse and quickly take down both horse and rider, easily killing and eating them both. Bred in captivity, a number of the beasts had escaped, turning feral and breeding in the wild.

These feral wargs were even larger and more vicious than the standard ones, and on occasion they wandered onto elf land. The marchwardens were always watching, and any patrol would quickly kill any warg that came near. This particular evening, a mated pair of the beastly creatures was mistakenly disturbed. Completely unaware that it was a duo and not a single creature, the band of wardens dispatched the first animal, but the mate quickly turned the situation into a grave one.

As the band of warriors fell on the first creature, the second surprised them, roaring from the hidden cave, the very place where they were constructing a nest. The huge bulking beast was enraged, and Haldir intercepted it before it could fall on his men. There was more than a ton of weight behind the fiercely clawed paw that caught Haldir flat across the face, and that singular blow should have killed him. Unconscious but not dead, Haldir was unable to defend himself as the enormous fur covered creature stomped his broken form then bit him severely in the side. Only the feel of steel against bone stopped the vicious mauling, when Glorfindel's sword intervened to save him.

Glorfindel fell on the beast as the others drug Haldir to safety, and eventually other wardens assisted, finally managing to chase it back into the cave. Seeing Haldir so badly injured, they instantly abandoned their attack, returning to the great hall to tend their General. Glorfindel knew the injuries were beyond even his healing capabilities, and refusing to allow his hatred for the fae to cost a friend's life, he traveled to the earth realm, collecting Grace and begging for her healing touch that night. The golden warrior was now grateful and relieved that friend was whole again, and he was more than ready to resume his attack on that second creature. It was wounded, but definitely alive, presumably still hiding in that cave.

Grace looked at Caribre oddly when he finished speaking, then simply turned away. Her eyes had been adjusting to the darkness, and she was standing on the very edge of a good size clearing in the forest. A huge rocky outcrop towered over the open space and there was a large shadow on the ground where the fallen creature lay. Somewhere near the center of it all was the opening to a small cave, and in that cave, the animal was hiding.

Oblivious to the disturbed looks she was gathering, Grace slowly began walking out into the clearing, only to be stopped and nearly snatched off her feet when Glorfindel grabbed her by the arm. He did not mind Grace watching the wardens kill that second creature, but surely the little human was not insane enough to go after the creature herself! Instantly, Glorfindel realized his error in allowing Grace to come to that place. "Pinilyaer! Stop yourself child, even the life of Haldir is not worth this! You shall certainly be killed! "

Grace was already slipping into that strange mental place she went when the anger took her, and she simply looked up at the massive elf with flat black eyes. "I'm not the one who will die here tonight." She told him in an odd, flat voice.

Blue flames began to roar across her skin, and as Glorfindel watched Grace walk farther into the clearing, the elf realized too late that he was powerless to stop her. Frowning desperately, he did the only thing he could do. He accompanied her, unsheathing that massive sword and preparing himself for the attack he knew was coming. Wardens carefully surrounded that clearing, bows drawn and ready, silently wondering what this tiny woman intended to do against such a massive and ferocious creature. Undeterred, Grace's bare feet made no sound as they carried her into the very center of that clearing, directly in front of the cave, her very presence daring that creature to come and get her.

The anger that flowed through Grace was even more powerful than in the warehouse, and Grace gave herself to it completely. Lengthened blades of grass bent into waves as the pressure from her anger literally surrounded her, throwing out ever widening circles very much like the ripples on a pond. The very air vibrated around her, causing Glorfindel's hair to shift and flutter, and he watched in amazement as tiny curls of smoke swirled around her feet as Grace silently waited.

Glorfindel could hear the creature gathering itself for an attack, but even he wasn't prepared for the sight of that massive beast tearing out of the dark opening and launching itself at that tiny little human girl. His sword tore through the night air, connecting once again with that massive brown shoulder, and he prayed he was fast enough. The blow almost wasn't, and neither was Grace.

The sight of that horrible creature tearing at her, giant curved teeth bared, lips snarled in anger, putrid slobber flying . . . it was horrifying and for a second, Grace froze. Glorfindel's blow slowed it, and just as it's massive clawed feet left the ground for what would have been her final moment, Grace stopped it, catching that horrifying warg with her mind. It hung over her, that stinking drool now running down a tanned shoulder to seep into her gown. The blood from Glorfindel's blow splattered across her face, and the animal hair he ripped loose when he withdrew it actually drifted into her own.

Every warden caught their breath, the very air frozen as Grace took control of that vile beast. A stillness like no other hung heavy for a split second, then Grace threw that bulking beast back against those sharp rocks with such force the very ground trembled. The sound of bones crushing resonated through the clear night air as she flattened that creature against the boulders, the horrible damage she did to that vampire paling in comparison to what she inflicted on that now helpless animal. It was so thoroughly mangled when she released it, there was no identifiable shape left to the body, but even that damage did not satisfy her.

Pure hatred burned in those flat black eyes, as Grace stepped closer. Another thought instantly reduced that stinking mass of broken flesh to dust, then she sent a great group of stones crashing down, covering the cave entrance completely. Not finished yet, Grace turned toward the first creature, already stiffened by death. That body posed no more challenge than the first, and when it was over, no more than a scorched place on the grass remained.

Stunned by what they witnessed, the marchwardens silently slipped back into the darkened forest folds, but Glorfindel sought to calm her, and remained by her side. "Pinilyaer, it is over. Your work is done, and we are most grateful. Haldir is saved . . . all is well this night."

Struggling for breath, Grace closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm. It took time to force the anger down, to make the flames fade from her skin, but Glorfindel never moved. The ancient warrior was not only impressed, he was genuinely thankful for her presence that night, and the blond warrior would remain with Grace so long as was necessary.

Suddenly seeming so fragile in the darkness, Grace turned huge grey eyes up to the massive elf who stood guard over her. "I'd like to see Haldir now," she managed to whisper, and he simply nodded. Grace was shaking when he helped her onto Seraphim, and she fought to settle herself during the ride back. Haldir would surely be up and around by the time they got back, and Grace wondered what it would be like to see her "friend" again. Knowing he was alive was enough for her at that very moment, but she wondered how he would react to seeing her.

Laughter and bright conversation met them outside the great hall this time, the mood transformed by the news Haldir's life had been saved. That happy chatter dulled as the group returned, many guards stunned to see Grace slip from the back of Seraphim. The massive stallion allowed no man save Haldir to touch him, yet he not only accepted Grace's handling, he reached round and pressed that giant head into her chest as if to thank her, actually snorting contentedly as she rubbed him softly between those beautiful black ears.

More amazed than ever, Glorfindel slowly joined Grace, and together they went back into the hall. As before, the curious wardens parted to make way for the golden warrior and his strange human companion. The image that met those big grey eyes was much different now, and Grace was relieved to see Haldir sitting up, actually smiling as he spoke quietly with Orophin and the other wardens. Palpable silence fell when Grace entered the hall, her now disheveled appearance garnering attention, but word of what she accomplished was spreading like wildfire and soon excited chatter surrounded her. Grace simply ignored it.

That excited chatter soon faded as Grace came to stand before the powerful marchwarden general who now owed her his life. Blood marred that beautiful moonlight hair, staining his clothes and his flesh in huge swathes, but the elf himself was fine. Those deep blue eyes nearly burning a hole through her, seeing the blood that now splattered her own face, and Haldir reached out with his mind, wondering what she had done.

Grace met his gaze with an equally deep one. Everyone could clearly see the burning connection between them, and Glorfindel eased a step closer, wondering if his intervention might become necessary. Running her eyes over him, Grace could feel her blood boiling, yet she could clearly see a golden band shining on his finger. It made no sense, because she was literally trembling with heat from being so close to him. Slowly Grace stepped closer, oblivious to the blood that oozed between her toes as she approached the table.

Haldir was watching Grace in complete amazement, overwhelmed by the way she healed him, stunned to know the blood drops against that tanned flesh were a tribute to him. His mind was a million miles away, everything else completely forgotten as he felt himself slipping into the depths of those burning grey eyes, trembling himself when Grace took his face into her hands and gently traced her fingers over the new scars on his cheek. Her touch was like water to a dying man, but that deep contentment his soul was slowly reaching for was instantly shattered when a piercing scream tore through that hall.

Grace turned to watch in complete amazement as a tall young elven woman with flaming red hair came tearing through that hall like a woman possessed, shoving Grace out of the way as she launched herself into Haldir's arms with enough force to nearly knock him off the table. Haldir was stunned, instinctively grabbing hold of Cerylia to comfort her. The elven girl was hysterical, just receiving word of Haldir's injuries . . . she'd run the entire way from her house, and she was all over Haldir like white on rice. Her hands were on his face, her fingers in his hair, her lips kissing every inch of him as she frantically ranted to him in elf speak.

Everyone was wondering if Grace was about to be all over Cerylia like white on rice herself, especially Glorfindel and Cairbre, because the thoughts that began to pour from Grace's mind were revealing to say the least. They agreed to be friends, but seeing another woman now encased in that beautiful elf's arms was unexpected, and Grace had not only just saved Haldir's life, she'd just massacred the very warg that wounded him in his honor.

Grace fought valiantly to stem the flow of overwhelming emotions that threatened to drown her, but she was projecting like a lighthouse beacon, and it was a very inopportune time to be in a room full of telepaths. Every person in that hall had their eyes locked on Grace as every memory of every touch she shared with Haldir rolled out of her mind, crashing into the minds of those elves like ocean waves against a rocky shore. Grace was powerless to stop it, and she felt like a mental whore as her most intimate thoughts were slowly and painfully revealed to every elf in sight.

Cerylia was only a few feet away from Grace, and that elven girl was getting the wake up call of her life. Haldir had neglected to mention his little human friend to his new girlfriend, and he certainly neglected to mention all those entertaining sexual trysts that were now pouring directly into Cerylia's brain. If the girl was overwrought when she came running into that hall, she was going to be something else entirely when she stormed back out.

The silence that fell was so heavy you could barely breathe, and when Cerylia's hand connected with Haldir's face it echoed through that hall like a shot. It was shocking, but what happened next was even worse.

Cerylia turned around and spit on Grace.


	35. Dogs and Drool

Chapter 35 – Dogs and Drool

Spit. Saliva. Drool. Slobber.

No matter what you call it, while necessary, it is a most unpleasant substance and certainly not one that any human being responds well to having physically placed on themselves, particularly Grace. Haldir was horrified, completely incapable of believing what was happening, and his brothers Rumil and Orophin were already moving out of the way for the explosion they just knew was coming.

Shock and overwhelming embarrassment were the only things that saved Cerylia that night, because if Grace hadn't been so distracted by the idea of everyone in that hall knowing about her sexual escapades with Haldir, odds were excellent Cerylia would have died where she stood. Struggling to control herself, Grace closed her eyes and silently screamed to the one she knew would save her, determined she would not take another life that night. Nuada's name tore from her mind as the rage within her built, shaking the very soil on the floorboards as Grace fought the rage within her.

Knees weakened when she felt the rock hard chest behind her, Grace positive Nuada had come to save her. As the horror of the night began to hit her, a tornado of emotions tore through Grace. She was shaking like a leaf, overcome by everything she'd seen, everything she'd done, everything she was about to do - desperate to control the burning anger straining inside her. Tears of relief filled those huge grey eyes as she turned to meet his, only they were not emerald green.

Glorfindel said nothing. The sympathetic elf could feel her slight form trembling against him, and if her guardian would not answer those pitiful cries for help, the golden warrior would. The human required immediate comfort, less Grace explode, forcing Haldir and Cerylia to share the same terrible fate as that massive creature in the clearing. Instinctively, he snatched the cloak that was thrown across the nearest table and wrapped Grace in it, physically turning her away, putting that huge muscled arm around her shoulders and drawing her against him. Without ever saying a word, that wonderful elf walked Grace right out of the stunned silence of that hall, and into the welcome darkness beyond.

Pure numbness was the only thing that held Grace together until they cleared that group of overly interested wardens gathered outside, and thankfully in that instant, they were back in her den. Mentally incapacitated, Grace simply stood there, finally realizing Glorfindel had not let go of her hand.

"Pinilyaer?" he said loudly, trying to force her mind to focus. "Pinilyaer, speak! Tell me you are well."

Well? Who the hell would be well after that shit?

Giving him some strange stunned expression, Grace shrank away from his touch, ignoring him completely as she sank onto the couch, her body wilting beneath the great racking sobs that tore through her. Nuada had abandoned her, refused to come to her aid, and she wondered if he ever planned to return.

Glorfindel stood over her, looking down at this fragile little human, remembering how she had wept for Haldir in the rose gardens. He knew she must be stunned by the appearance of Cerylia, he could not imagine being spit on by anyone, and he did not know where Nuada was.

Somewhat reluctantly, Glorfindel came to sit beside Grace, wanting to comfort her in some way. The golden warrior did not like what she was, but he respected the things Grace had done, and no elf wanted to see any soul so sad and distraught as hers. He carefully took her hand into his and Grace couldn't help herself, she clung to it and she cried, cried her very heart out to this strange elf warrior who didn't even like her.

Everything from that entire day came crashing down on Grace as she sat on that couch, and while her mouth was not speaking, her mind certainly was. Her pain was so obvious that it made him hurt just to be near her, and Glorfindel looked at Grace with the deepest, saddest expression, almost as if he wanted to cry with her.

"I'm sorry," Grace finally told him through her tears, "I don't want to live like this anymore."

Grace might have cried all night, but the drop of blood that landed on her arm suddenly reminded her that Glorfindel was injured too, and she was stunned when her gaze ran over the condition of his face. As it always did, her need to help someone else overran her own needs and that broken soft southern drawn immediately sounded against the silence of her den. "Stay here." Grace commanded, ignoring the fact that his powerful face creased into a frown at her words. The frown remained, but so did the elf, as Glorfindel obediently complied.

Quickly Grace left the room, tossing that cloak into her club chair as she went to retrieve some wet rags from the bathroom. Even sitting, Glorfindel was nearly as tall as Grace was, and as she assessed his condition, she quickly remembered just how damn scary that massive warrior was. Scary or not, he was wounded so forcing down pure terror, Grace carefully took a wet rag and began to every so carefully wipe the blood away from that unusual golden skin.

Glorfindel watched her in amazement, shocked that Grace would concern herself about his injuries, surprised at the instant comfort she brought to him with her touch. He said nothing as she tended to him, just watched her carefully through glistening grey eyes the same as hers. There was a terrible gash on his arm, and the blue flames began to softly lick at her fingers as Grace touched him, feathery strokes slowly closing the gaping wound, erasing the mark from the sinewy arm she held in her grasp.

Finished with his arm, her eyes went to that striking face. Glorfindel was not beautiful like Haldir, but he was striking in a very masculine and intimidating way. Beautiful or not, no face deserved that horrible wound. His cheek was laid open right down to the bone, and Grace shocked that ancient elf senseless when she took her hands and buried them in that shimmering golden mane of hair, gently smoothing it back from his face so she could take a better look. Glorfindel couldn't even speak as her hands began to trace against his face, carefully considering every bloody streak.

Damp cotton was hard at work when a voice called from the back door. It was Cairbre, worried to death, coming to check on her wellbeing. The marchwarden who was her friend didn't realize Glorfindel was still with Grace, or that he'd been injured too, and as he ran his eyes over the strange pair, he could clearly see how Grace trembled. Anyone in their right mind would be terrified of Glorfindel, and Cairbre guessed that Grace was no exception . . . his presence enough was enough to make the human tremble, not withstanding everything else she'd endured that night.

"Grace, do you need help . . . are you ok?" he asked gently.

His human friend didn't answer. Grace was not yet capable of digesting the things she'd seen and done that night, and most certainly not ready to talk about them. An uncomfortable silence ensued, and finally Cairbre fell into a conversation with Glorfindel. The voice of that golden haired elf was firm and low, his elven words ringing clearly through her den as Grace gently washed the blood from his face.

Those beautiful elven words were pissing Grace off to no end, as she once again found herself in the presence of this imposing elf warrior being talked about as if she were invisible, and when she raked that rough rag right through his raw flesh on purpose, she quickly forced his attention back on her.

It hurt like hell, and Glorfindel's grey eyes instantly flew to her face as a frown came over him. He knew she did it on purpose, and he was surprised to find Grace staring at him like she wanted to choke him where he sat. Across the room, Cairbre cringed, but couldn't resist the softest chuckle. "I do not believe Grace appreciates our conversation in a language she cannot understand." He offered quietly.

Well, no shit brilliance!

Glorfindel couldn't hide his surprise. He'd never thought about the fact Grace did not speak in the elven language, and he was being rude without even realizing it. Elves possess impeccable manners, and this was not acceptable behavior, even toward a creature he was less than impressed with. Considering that, he suddenly realized what had upset her so that night in the Healing House. Three men stood right in front of the little human and discussed her wellbeing at length with absolutely no consideration of the fact she was standing there listening.

Suddenly a lot of things about Grace became much clearer to Glorfindel, and he genuinely meant his apology. "My regrets Little One." He told her sincerely.

Glorfindel continued to discuss that night's events with Cairbre, only this time it was in English, not elf speak and as he spoke, he was studying the little human woman with a much greater interest, noting the terrible scars that covered her body as he did. He'd never gotten close to Grace in Rivendell, and when she came to the Healing House, Grace was wearing a heavy sweatshirt.

Standing in front of him now in no more than a blood and warg drool soaked nightgown, Glorfindel could clearly see the vicious scars that traced over her, including the horrible scar where the vampire had attacked her. His gaze narrowed as he considered how she had suffered, and he found himself oddly broken when she turned toward the painted trunk for more rags, revealing the scars that covered her back. This human had been through much, much more than most elves had ever dreamed of yet somehow she had survived.

That thought turned even his warrior face into the sympathetic stare Grace despised so deeply by the time she turned back to face him, and Grace's expression grew very dark in return. "If you don't wipe that sad sympathetic look off your face, this damn cut I'm working on is gonna be the least of your worries." She told him viciously.

The pure disgust in her voice caught Glorfindel by surprise, and across the room, Cairbre was praying to the Valar Grace didn't haul off and slap that sad look off Glorfindel's face, positive he'd kill her if she did. Thankfully, the ancient elf said nothing, surprise at her words quickly erasing the sympathetic look, and he sat silently while Grace finished repairing the damage to his face. When she was satisfied that cheek was perfect again, she took the rag into her hand again, carefully wiping away every last trace of blood from his face. She couldn't stand seeing the blood against that golden skin, somehow wishing it was Haldir's face she was washing instead of Glorfindel's.

After a few minutes, Glorfindel reached up and gently caught her hands, positive she would sit there and dab at him for the rest of the night. He could clearly read her thoughts, and Glorfindel knew she wished to be cleaning Haldir's face too.

"We are both well Pinilyaer." He told her firmly. "Many thanks to you, we are both well."

Grace frowned terribly as she looked down at that warrior. Helping others eased her own pain, and seeing the various scars that marred his face made Grace feel like she needed to do more for the powerful elf who had been so kind to her that night. "Would you like me to erase those other scars too?" she asked him seriously.

Incapable of hiding his complete shock that she would care anything for the way his face looked, Glorfindel gave Grace the strangest look, suddenly intrigued even deeper by this little human woman. Why would she worry for his scars, yet not her own?

"I think not." He answered her carefully. "Our scars make us who we are."

Grace shrugged in reply to his words, knowing it was a true statement. She would certainly be a very different person if not for her scars. "Well, if you change your mind, you know where I'm at." She drawled out softly, although she honestly hoped he never paid her another impromptu visit. "You'd be cuter without that one on your eyebrow."

Across that den, poor Cairbre damn near choked to death, and Glorfindel couldn't help a stunned chuckle himself because Grace genuinely shocked the shit out of him that time. "Cute?" he exclaimed in surprise. "Is that not a human word for attractive . . . desirable?"

Now it was her turn to be stunned. Glorfindel was a lot of things, but she couldn't say desirable was the first word that came to mind – actually, it was way far down on that list of adjectives – and she sure as hell didn't want that elf thinking she was flirting with him!

"It's just a figure of speech. Your wife might like you better without it, that's all." She told him seriously.

Still laughing softly, Glorfindel held out his hands for her to see. "I am not betrothed Pinilyaer. No rings mark my flesh."

Grace ran her eyes over the fingers he was displaying to her, suddenly felt sick to her stomach as she remembered seeing the golden ring on Haldir's finger tonight as she healed him. She was positive that was not the ring he showed her in that very kitchen around the corner . . . their bond was not being blocked, she could clearly feel it when she faced him tonight! Did that mean Haldir was married and she did not know?

Suddenly feeling nauseous, every bit of color went out of her face, and Grace sank to sit on the couch beside him. Glorfindel assumed it was simply from everything she'd been through that night, and after sincerely thanking Grace for her assistance he turned to Cairbre.

"The Pinilyaer requires the presence of her guardian. She has done well this night, yet she is deeply disturbed by these things. Do not leave her side until she is in the company of Nuada." Glorfindel did not know why Nuada didn't come to Grace in that marchwarden hall, but he was positive her guardian wasn't far, and felt comfortable leaving her. Inclining that massive golden haired head to them both, he ran one more quick look over Grace and was gone.

Poor Cairbre, he didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do now. Grace was sitting on the couch in some mild state of shock, there was blood on her floor, blood all over her, and Glorfindel would cut his heart out with a spoon if he left that woman without Nuada being by her side.

"What do you wish of me?" he asked politely, praying he could actually do it.

"You can go, I'll be fine." Grace told him uncertainly, but there was absolutely no chance of that happening. Cairbre wouldn't disobey a direct command from Glorfindel if his very life depended on it – because it did.

"No Grace. Please tell me what I might do to comfort you. Do you know where Nuada is?" he asked politely.

"Fangtasia." Grace guessed, silently wondering if Eric Northman's company was really so important that it outranked saving her ass that night.

"Very well, I shall drive you." Cairbre told her.

Grace didn't know why, but she grabbed those Jaguar keys off the kitchen counter instead of her own. Maybe it was some subconscious need to be close to Nuada that made her do it, but whatever it was in less that five minutes, she was behind the steering wheel with Cairbre seated beside her. Grace hadn't driven a car in years, but her nerves were so shattered, she didn't even notice. That Jaguar engine had just begun to purr when Nuada himself did appear in Grace's den . . . but he had not come to save her. The drunken guardian had only come to seduce her.

While his meeting in Los Angeles had actually been quite brief, Nuada hadn't returned to Grace as he should have. He went to Crash Mansion instead, and he was definitely suffering the effects. A steady river of Crown Royal had flowed through him all evening, dulling his senses and blocking his brain from hearing Grace's cries. Smooth black leather covered the sofa bed in that expensive private room, and his drunken form had explored every inch of it with Serena for hours, tormenting the werewolf with his newly discovered sexual satisfaction techniques. Nuada might not be able to safely possess Grace, but he had taken that red headed whore over and over again, forcing her to scream his name and beg him for mercy. It might seem cruel, but it was the only way for him to curb his ever growing lust for Grace, and the only thing that held his desire in check to keep him from harming her. He had managed to partially sate himself, and he was now hoping for a very long and pleasant night with Grace, intending for them to play yet another round of their human satisfaction exploration game.

It was now nearly one o'clock in the morning, and as his intoxicated and lust-blurred eyes took in the condition of Grace's den, Nuada found himself confused. Stepping closer to that club chair, Nuada could easily see a cloak tossed there . . . and elf cloak . . . and a quick glance around showed blood on her floor. Jerking it into his hands, he looked it over, and a simple whiff told him it belonged to Haldir.

Feeling his heart freeze in his chest, Nuada first wondered if Haldir had snapped somehow, come to her house and attacked Grace . . . maybe the elf had taken her back to the elf realm . . . but when the headlights of his car came cutting through that front window, he knew something else as happening here. Flying to the window, he watched in amazement as Grace backed down the driveway. She was at the wheel of his Jaguar, and there was a silver haired elf in the passenger seat . . .

To ASSUME – To Make an Ass out of U and Me.

In that moment, Nuada assumed that Grace had Haldir in his car, and, the drunken idiot didn't even pause to think where they might be going or for what reason. Overcome by anger and disappointment, he did what a typical scorned lover who was horny and drunk would do . . . he overreacted . . . and he returned himself to that dark private room inside Crash Mansion within seconds. His money still owned that room, that sofa bed and that whore . . . Nuada would finish what he started with Serena, and she wasn't even dressed yet.

Eric Northman was assuming some things himself when Grace and Cairbre stumbled out of that black Jaguar behind Fangtasia, and he wondered if he was gonna have to finish it. There was enough elf blood on Grace to insight a vampire riot, and if not for the overwhelming scent of that horrible warg drool all over her, she very well might have. Eric was stunned by how Grace looked, and he was relieved to no end that Sookie went home and wasn't there to see it.

"Grace, please tell me how you came to be in this condition!" he demanded, instantly at her side. His face was creased into a terrible frown, his hands frantically searching around that blood soaked gown for injuries, his mind working a thousand miles a minute. Eric Northman had questions, and he wanted answers. What the hell happened? Why was Grace there? Why was she soaked in blood? Who's blood was that? What creature did that vile scent come from? and most importantly – Where the hell was Nuada and why was there an elf with Grace instead of him?

So many questions quickly incapacitated Grace's already overloaded brain cells, and thankfully Cairbre stepped forward to answer in her place. Eric soon found himself stunned into complete silence by the wild story being repeated to him, those soft blue eyes carefully going back and forth over every inch of Grace, his mind returning to the stern warning he shared with her that night in Nuada's kitchen. A few more episodes like this, and Grace was certainly going to end up dead, not to mention the increasing chance she might kill someone herself. Cerylia had been damn lucky.

The vampire's first response when Cairbre finished speaking was very similar to Glorfindel's. "Where the hell was Nuada?" he asked Grace firmly. Eric knew it was his job to be with Grace when she got drug into crap like this - not only was he not with Grace, his friend stood him up tonight and wasn't even answering his damn cell phone!

"I don't know . . . I thought he'd be with you . . ." Grace whispered, and that brought an even deeper frown from Eric Northman. He was beginning to agree with Sookie. As a guardian, Nuada had moments of sheer stupidity, not to mention complete absence, usually when he was needed the most.

"Leave Grace with me. I'll see that she's taken care of." Eric demanded, and while Cairbre knew that vampire would, there was just one little problem.

"I cannot." He told Eric quietly, inclining his head politely. "Glorfindel himself has commanded that she be returned to the care of Nuada, only her guardian is acceptable. I apologize, but I must comply."

That answer infuriated Eric to no end, but it didn't bother Grace one bit. Turning to Cairbre, she just walked over and grabbed him by the arm. "Then take me to him." she ordered. Those little blue flickers were already tracing under Grace's skin as she stared expectantly at Cairbre, her eyes darkening at the very thought of being told no. Tonight had been truly awful. Grace needed to be held, comforted, told everything would be fine . . . Grace wanted Nuada, and she wanted him now.

The marchwarden exchanged a desperate look with Eric. He'd gone three shades paler, and so did that vampire. Nuada was not going to understand Grace being with Haldir again, no matter the reason, and he would most likely go insane when he saw all that blood on Grace. Both men shared the uneasy suspicion that all hell was about to break loose, and they were correct. Hell was coming, and a creature was going to go insane, it just wasn't going to be Nuada.

***************************************

Pain. It was something that a lot of people felt that night, and it was something that was going to get so very much worse for others. There is nothing on earth that can prepare any creature - man or woman – elf or human – vampire or whatever - for the sight of the person they love committing a sexual act with another person . . . particularly if that person just so happens to Nuada and he just so happens to be fucking a female werewolf doggie style . . . which in some very sick and twisted way seemed oddly fitting.

There is also nothing on earth that can prepare anyone or anything for what said creature's reaction to that sight is going to be . . . particularly if that creature happens to be Grace and possesses the power to crush people to dust with a thought. Unfortunately, that was exactly the situation presenting itself inside one of those private rooms inside Crash Mansion, and the words "all hell breaking loose" did not even begin to describe what followed.

Cairbre obeyed Grace's command behind Fangtasia, and he put her within ten feet of Nuada only seconds after she grasped his hand. Her initial reaction of stunned silence was to be expected, and Serena's gleeful grunts and loud moans of pleasure hid the gentle pop that announced their arrival. Black walls and faint lighting did nothing to draw attention, and both newcomers stared in complete disbelief as every perfect naked inch of Nuada's alabaster skin rhythmically ground into the woman in front of him.

Poor Cairbre, there were reasons why he was retired and his reaction to what he saw proved them. That terrified elf clamped his hand over his heart, instantly praying to the Valar with everything he was worth, a pure torrent of murmured elf speak pouring from his very soul, pleading for mercy that he make it out of that room alive.

The primal scream that tore from Grace was as earth shattering as any that had ever gone before it, and the very earth itself trembled beneath her feet when she did. The force of anger that poured from her soul was both far reaching and astonishing in its power. Deep in the Northern Wood, Haldir of Lórien was dropped like a stone, hitting the hard wood floor of that marchwarden hall like a dead weight. In Bon Temps, Sookie Stackhouse felt an avalanche of pain wash over her bed, actually feeling Grace's torment so vividly it ran right through her blood bond to Eric, nearly incapacitating even his powerful form. If Logan hadn't caught him, that poor vampire would've hit the floor too.

Inside Crash Mansion two more people hit the floor, and they hit it hard. The very moment that scream tore from her body, Grace turned that huge black leather sofa bed Nuada and Serena were screwing on to ashes, instantly transforming the deeply engrossed pair from fucking to falling. It was an obviously unpleasant experience for them both, but the unpleasantness was just beginning. Nuada may have been highly intoxicated, but nearly having your manhood ripped off when the person it's buried in falls two feet to the ground is enough to get any man's attention . . . and by god he sobered up . . . fast.

Fast was also a very good description for how long it took Grace to cross that room and put her hands on Serena, because she didn't even get the chance to scream herself before two small dark hands grabbed handfuls of deep red hair and snatched her narrow ass right out from under Nuada. Grace knew instantly the woman was a werewolf, and her response was automatic. "My boyfriend is fucking a god damned dog?"

Serena wasn't that bright, but she knew enough to know she was screwed, literally and figuratively, because the very look in those now black eyes left little doubt Grace intended to kill her. The werewolf intended to transform to help protect herself, but there would be no transforming allowed in that room, not unless Grace was the one doing it. At that particular moment, every piece of furniture was what was transforming – right into dust – all compliments of Grace's raging temper.

Raging tempers were about to fill that room because Lord Niall had been enjoying a pleasant rest in the Fairy Land of Light when that soul wrenching scream of agony tore out of his great-granddaughter, and it nearly put him on his knees. By her side in seconds, sea green eyes needed no more than a glance to see the horrible condition Grace was in, and thousands of years of mind reading sucked that night's story from her brain in an instant. His great-grandchild might be overwrought with anger and pain at that very moment, but it paled in comparison to his.

Guardians began silently pouring into that room, six of them stepping right out of the shadows, summoned by the Fairy Lord himself, a man who happened to now have his own handful of hair, only it was corn silk blonde. "Your actions disgust me," Lord Niall bellowed, his ancient hand closing around Nuada's throat, "and I have tolerated enough!"

Undeterred by the appearance of her great-grandfather, Grace dealt with the problem at hand – more specifically in her hand – and with one bone crunching mental grab, Grace flicked Serena across that room like a cigarette butt. The only reason Serena didn't die when Grace threw her was that she bounced off the broad expanse of a leather clad guardian's chest instead of the wall. The resounding smack of her flesh against that chest plate was still satisfying, and Grace couldn't have been happier.

Niall Brigant was a lot of things, but happy sure as hell wasn't one of them. He was extremely protective of his descendants, and he was pissed. Grace was not some elven healing whore to be snatched from her home at will by his brother's minions, she was not some inconsequential worthless little pawn to be treated like trash and used for Nuada's amusement, and most importantly of all – what possessed the elves to let that delicate human face down a massive warg, and where was Nuada while all of this was taking place?

Nuada was too drunk to answer those questions, and Cairbre certainly didn't intend to. Desperate to get out of the way, the appearance of six of those magnificent blonde haired, black clothed guardian creatures had rendered him speechless, and he absolutely didn't want a piece of that enraged fairy!. The corner he was backed into was offering a temporary haven as he watched one guardian grab hold of Serena, instantly incapacitating her. The red head never even groaned before he passed that magical hand over her eyes and put her under . . . that werewolf wasn't going to remember a thing.

Grace sure as hell was, and the appearance of more people only served to stoke her rage. These newcomers were in her way, and they were also there so she couldn't have her way. This was a public place, and thankfully that room was soundproof, but the situation was still completely unacceptable. Lord Niall had to calm Grace, stop her wave of destruction before she waged war on Nuada in that room.

Nuada was ready to wage a little war of his own, infuriated and completely confused, his drunken mind could not comprehend what was happening. Reeling with pain and naked as a jay bird, he'd found himself snatched to his feet by Lord Niall himself, and he was just beginning to struggle to get loose. Both of them needed to be controlled, and while two guardians went for Grace, the other four went for Nuada. It would normally take at least eight to control him, but he was already partially down between his intoxication and his intense personal discomfort – they would handle him.

When those two strange black eyed creatures faced off with Grace, she didn't back down one inch, but they were going to have to make her back down and fast. Nuada might have been a fair space away from Grace, but while Lord Niall had physical hold of him, Grace took mental hold of him. The pain in his privates paled in comparison to what she had in mind, because Grace started crushing that man from the inside out. Nuada's pale skin was turning light blue and she heard the first rib snap just before she got snatched off her feet from behind.

It was the very last thing Grace expected, the very last thing any creature in that room expected, but Glorfindel himself had come to claim her. Haldir was physically incapacitated with exhaustion from his recent injuries, enraged after a huge fight with Cerylia, but he was determined to respond after hearing Grace's cry. Nuada might ignore her pleas for help, but Haldir of Lorien most certainly would not. Knowing his friend was not able, the golden warrior himself answered the promise of that marchwarden medallion, personally coming to see what tormented the human girl so.

Glorfindel's mind reading was fast as Niall's and so were his eyes – he knew immediately what was going in that strange room, and he knew his very demands for Grace's return to her guardian had caused this. The mercenaries didn't even garner a respectful glance, Nuada and that Fairy Lord not even worth his breath. Very much the same as he did earlier in the marchwarden hall, that massive elf simply wrapped those huge arms around Grace and disappeared. Cairbre was gone in the same instant, and behind them in that dark room, it was Nuada's scream of rage that now tore through the stillness as six mercenaries and one extremely displeased great-grandfather fell on him.

Screaming was going to be something a number of people became familiar with before the next several days ended. Eric Northman got his dose first when his cell phone rang, Sookie nearly hysterical, blabbering on about what was happening to Grace and how horrible it must be, screaming into the phone that he needed to do something. The phone call didn't convince him, but that stunned vampire was positive he did need to do something when his second dose of screaming arrived a few minutes later.

Glorfindel instantly appearing behind Fangtasia with Grace's furious - and loudly screaming - form wrapped in his arms. Burning under her touch, Glorfindel released her and Grace hit the ground on all fours, vomiting violently. Cairbre was right behind him, and nearly ready to do the same thing. Glorfindel might not be terrified of six fairy guardians, but he sure as hell was, and it would take hours before his heart stopped pounding.

Logan had just walked outside with Eric, struggling to calm him after the tormented phone call he got from Sookie, and neither vampire was prepared for that sight. If Grace looked bad the first time Eric saw her, it was ten times worse now. On her hands and knees in that gravel parking lot, Grace alternated between heaving her guts out and screaming in pain and anger, all while still dressed in that blood stained gown. One terrified elf was clutching his heart and leaning against Nuada's Jaguar, while a massive warrior stood over Grace and silently watched her puke.

Logan was stunned, and went to her side instantly, while Eric stepped toward those elves . . . he wasn't scared of Glorfindel one bit, and that vampire had seen enough of this shit for one night.

Glorfindel's words were short, sweet and to the point. "Take care of the girl. Her guardian is gone." Eric didn't know what the hell that meant – was Nuada sick? Dead? Had he just disappeared?

Whatever Nuada was, Glorfindel didn't intend to offer any further information. If Grace's screams that morning in Rivendell were bad, these were worse, and they were also his fault. After accepting Eric's assurance that he would personally see that Grace was returned home safely, the massive elf gave Eric a curt nod and disappeared. That vampire wasn't the only one who'd seen enough for one night.

Walking across that parking lot, Eric Northman was just as angry as Lord Niall ever thought about being. Obviously Grace discovered a situation somewhere along the lines of what Eric feared, and now he was the one disgusted. No business meeting and no whore was more important that caring for the woman you supposedly loved, and never, ever did you reduce a human being to that state, then allow an elf to simply snatch her away, dump her in the dirt and leave her that way.

Eric made up his mind right then, if the elves or fairies needed help and Grace was willing to provide it, so be it – that was her decision to make. But if anyone ever treated Grace this way again, ever reduced her to such pitiful condition again - then by god the vampires would get involved. They would stop this from ever happening again – he would personally stop it.

One glare was all it took for Cairbre to disappear, and sympathetic to her dislike of cars, Eric drove Logan's Escalade to Sookie's house while Logan sat in the backseat cradling Grace's shattered form in his arms. Logan liked Grace, and while he'd certainly given up any thoughts of having a relationship with her, he agreed with Eric. This was completely unacceptable.

Sookie Stackhouse didn't know what the hell was going on when her bedroom light got flipped on about thirty minutes later. Already upset to no end by the wild emotions pouring into her by Grace, she was expecting to be joined in bed by a cool male body, she was not expecting to be joined by two angry vampires and one hysterical cousin. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, the tired blonde was struggling from the bed while Logan and Eric headed for the bathroom. Grace was going to get that blood and stinking spit off her right then.

Suddenly facing a situation very similar to the one the day they first met, Sookie found herself trapped in a small bathroom with too many men and one very upset and filthy cousin. She handled it the same way. "Get out!" She ordered firmly, and they did.

Grace didn't want to talk any more this night in Bon Temps than she did that day in Rivendell, and thankfully Sookie didn't need to hear one word. Their mental bond was much stronger now, and she could clearly see from Grace's thoughts what went on . . . she knew everything, right down to the last tuft of hair, two big red globs of which happened to still be clutched in those small tanned hands.

While Grace scrubbed, Sookie headed for the washer with what was left of that poor gown, then reluctantly went to the den. Eric and Logan wanted to hear the story, and it was an interesting one.

"What did Lord Niall do with Nuada?" Eric asked with honest concern. He was angry, but Nuada was still his only true friend.

"She doesn't know." Sookie answered in a hushed voice, not wanting Grace to hear. "I don't know if he'll come back or not."

"Grace didn't kill that whore did she?" Logan asked, positive she was capable of it.

Sookie honestly didn't know, and that brought terrible frowns from everyone. Eric wondered if he should call Niall and ask, but decided better of it. If they hadn't heard gotten word from Nuada by tomorrow, he would call, find out exactly what went on.

"Well what happened to that elf? Why did she have to go to that damn place again?" Eric demanded. The elves were who started this whole fiasco tonight!

"Haldir would have died Eric!" Sookie insisted, "And you know Grace is never gonna say no, even if they did agree to just be friends."

"Well who the hell spit on her, and what the fuck is a warg?" her concerned fiancée demanded. He'd lived for over a thousand years, but Eric had never heard of such a thing before, and he was finding it very hard to believe some girl spit on Grace and lived to tell about it.

"She must be his girlfriend . . . Grace didn't know the girl existed, but it's not like he'd tell her." Sookie answered, before trying to describe what a warg looked like. The image from Grace's mind was crystal clear, but it was still very hard to describe.

"A big brown hairy thing that stinks." Grace offered in a small, choked voice. Her hair was wet, and she was dressed in some of Sookie's clothes, her tears running unchecked down her face as she slipped to sit in a chair. No one had any idea what to say to her, although they'd all had suspicions about Nuada and his visits to Los Angeles.

"Grace, what can we do?" Sookie asked. Her own heart was breaking right along with her cousin's, that horrible pain seeping right over to her.

"Nothing." Grace whispered in return. "Not one thing."

"Well, I am staying with you tonight." Logan told her firmly. "And any other night that you require it. You should not be alone."

For the first time in her life, Grace got the frog eyes, wondering just what the hell kind of a response Nuada might have if he found her jacked up in bed with Logan . . . not that she gave a flying shit at that very moment, but it might be fun to watch. "I don't think . . ."

"Logan stays." Eric interrupted firmly. "We both do until sunup. You're not going to be left alone." Eric Northman was secretly terrified of what was going to happen if and when Nuada did show back up. If Grace went after him in Sookie's house, they might very well tear the whole damn thing down, and he wasn't about to let that happen. He had more than a few choice words for Nuada himself, he just hoped he got to his friend before Grace did.

Logan's offer to stay the night shocked the shit out of Grace, but those two vampires did stay with the cousins, Eric assuming his usual position in the bed with Sookie, Logan sitting beside Grace in the spare bedroom. It was very similar to Rivendell. She was under the covers, her head on the pillow, while Logan sat beside her, his body carefully reclined against the headboard on top of the quilts as he gently stroked his cool fingers through her hair. Grace cried all night, and Logan was thankful when she finally drifted off to sleep just before they left.

Grace was still sleeping with the sun rose less than an hour later, her tear stained face showing up dark and slightly swollen against the stark contrast of that white pillowcase when Sookie came to check on her. Hoping she might eat something, Sookie headed for a shower before hitting the kitchen to start some grits and eggs. They'd spend the day together, and she'd help Grace find some way to deal with all this.

Imagine her surprise, when she went to wake Grace up and the bed was empty. Grace was gone.


	36. I Am Yours

Chapter 36 – I am Yours

 _"E r u l i s s ë . . . E r u l i s s ë!"_

Never before had Savan heard such painful cries from any creature . . . the ancient fairy did not know that any man could make a woman's name retch from his very soul the way Nuada was at that very moment, and if he heard it one more time, he felt positive even his steady and stoic soul was going to snap. That was exactly the forty-third time Nuada had called that name . . . his voice now oddly strangled, raw and hoarse from screaming, pleading for this madness to end . . . begging for anyone to stop his pain.

Pain. It was something that a lot of people felt that night, and it was something that was going to get so very much worse for others after morning dawned. In Bon Temps, Sookie Stackhouse was about to go crazy, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt either a fairy or an elf just came into her own home and snatched her cousin right out from under her nose.

"Damn supernatural assholes! Just wait until Eric Northman hears about this!" She silently ranted to herself. Sookie was positive Nuada came for Grace, and she could only imagine how that reunion was going. Truth be known, it was no reunion. It was something else entirely because Nuada did not gently lift Grace from that bed, her great-grandfather did.

The altercation at Crash Mansion early that morning lasted under fifteen minutes, but the repercussions were going to last a lifetime. Drunk and disoriented, Nuada still gave Lord Niall and those six guardians the fight of their lives. One broken rib was nothing compared to the shattered bones and one crushed skull Nuada handed over in that dark room of Crash Mansion, and Niall called on four more guardians before Nuada finally found himself unceremoniously dumped into that holding cell, the sound of metal bars closing behind him hardly registering he was so consumed by rage.

Exhaustion finally took over, and Savan could not hide the terrible frown on his beautiful face as he periodically checked on the passed out creature now being held in the healing ward on the bottom floor of that secret pharmaceutical company. Fortunately Nuada only killed one guardian in this fight, but the healing circle still spent hours dealing with the injuries he inflicted. The magnificent healer could only imagine the injuries this day would bring, and his frown deepened.

A terrible frown creased the delicate wrinkled flesh of Lord Niall's face too. His conversation with Devlin as to the destroyed furniture didn't take much longer than the altercation did, but it certainly did not take care of the problem. That pitiful whore Nuada insisted on passing his time with made Niall nauseous, but Serena was sleeping soundly and completely redressed when the black door of that private room opened. Lighting flashed in those sea green eyes when Niall Brigant stepped out, and Devlin knew better than to ask what went on inside. There were times when a closed mouth and an open hand to accept the money you were being handed were your best options, and that night those rules certainly applied.

Rules certainly did not apply to what was going to take place at Facility Four, however. Healing was what this area was reserved for, not incarceration, and certainly not torture . . . but those gleaming white corridors and perfect pristine rooms were going to be used for each and every one of those tasks this day. If injuries needed to be tended, if Nuada had been receiving help, this situation may have been easier to accept, but Lord Niall didn't bring Nuada there that night to help him. He brought the creature there to hurt him, and hurt him that Fairy Lord did. Physical pain was useless. There was no creature Niall or any of the healers had ever encountered that held a higher threshold for physical pain than Nuada, but mental pain . . . that posed a whole realm of possibilities.

The sound of cold, hard steel snapping shut is unmistakable whether it be a padlock, the top of a coffin, or the steel bars of a jail cell. This particular cell was one of a kind, and that wasn't the sound of steel snapping shut, it was a very unique blend of iron and titanium created by the fairies at Facility Four for this one specific reason – to contain the powerful creature known as Amarande Nuada. Safety was always important, even to supernatural beings, and when one as old and violent as Nuada was involved, it was crucial. The first time the guardians brought Nuada to this place, he was injured and out of control. Thirteen guardians died as a result, and Niall took no chances with him now. Neither did Savan, and they both wondered if that special cell was even strong enough to hold him.

Niall Brigant had hours to reconsider, plenty of time to change his mind but he didn't. Savan and the other healers had rarely seen their Lord so full of anger and revenge as he was that day, and the Fairy Lord made it crystal clear his toleration for both the elves and Nuada had ended. The earth shattering scream that tore from his great-grandchild's heart devastated the ancient fairy, her pain so deep it even wounded his magnificent soul, and he would punish those responsible.

Grace had been doing so well. Her mind and body were healed, she'd settled into a very pleasant life, was actually quite happy, but last night ruined it and there would be harsh consequences. Never again did Lord Niall intend for his great-grandchild to travel to the elven realm, even if it was under the pretense of sharing her gift of healing. That disgraceful blood bond was going to be broken. His descendents were from the bloodline of the fae - not elves – and while Lord Elrond and Haldir helped save Grace, that debt was most certainly paid in full. And as for Nuada . . .

Harsh instructions spoken in a beautiful melodic voice were both startling and specific. The Fairy Lord demanded that transfer ritual be completed right that very moment – the healers could let those guardians die for all he cared – this was more important, and he would collect Grace himself. Savan's revelation that it was simply not possible to do it all in one night only served to stoke Niall's anger to a higher pitch and an uncomfortable compromise was reached. At the very least Grace was about to get a double dose of her grandfather's essence, like it or not. Not was certainly the correct answer, because even under ideal circumstances, that transfer was a horrible thing to endure and this was going to be the worst dose of them all.

Lord Niall was further infuriated when he went to collect Grace and found her being watched over by Logan. Scared of nothing but smart enough to know better, Niall refused to get into an altercation with two powerful vampires. Eric Northman's anger was palpable, and that vampire was quite capable of killing even the fairy lord himself if he tried. If guardians were involved a war would ensue, and an altercation that would inevitably involve Sookie was not acceptable. Lord Niall would wait.

Dark hours were spent in careful contemplation before the enraged fairy returned to collect his great-grandchild not long after the sun began to climb into the sky. Coldly efficient even in the administration of misery, Niall's repulsive scheme would kill two birds with one stone. Savan couldn't believe what he was hearing when Lord Niall explained what he wanted done. The magnificent healer was nearly as old as the Fairy Lord and in many ways more powerful, but he never disobeyed his ruler and the two rarely disagreed, but today was certainly going to be one of the times they absolutely did not agree.

This was going to be a two step process. Not only would Grace's transformation progress, he was going to tear Nuada's soul apart in the process, and that malicious Fairy Lord knew it. Typically Nuada would be with Grace for the transfer, holding her, cradling her against him to help ease that burning pain through her connection to his aura. Nuada always helped Grace bear the burden of that pain, but not today. This day, Grace would bear that pain alone, but Nuada was going to endure more than enough of his own. Nuada was going to be locked in that special holding cell – and he was going to watch.

The sun was up before the liquor finally began to wear off and slowly sobering from the night before, Nuada found himself being very comfortably restrained. Reclined on the plush leather sofa, Nuada wondered what Niall was up to, cold green eyes watching a flurry of activity in the treatment room across from him. Grace hurt him the night before, but he'd recover, he always did. The guardians who wrestled him into that cell were hurt much more than he was, and the bones he broke within them wouldn't mend nearly so quickly as his cracked rib would. If the fairy lord wanted to play a game and keep him in this stupid room for a few hours, even a day or two, he'd go along. It wasn't like he was suffering – that cell was outfitted nicer than most five star hotel suites.

Nuada fully admitted he'd been an ass, and at the very least he knew he needed to lay off the bottle. His drinking was getting out of control, much farther out of control than he realized, because the vast majority of the previous night was a complete blur. Nuada had no idea anything happened with Grace the night before. The visit to her tidy white house was barely a clouded memory, and he had absolutely no idea Grace ever came into that room at Crash Mansion. Nuada thought Niall destroyed that bed and everything else was just a fog. Unfortunately for him, that fog was about to become crystal clear.

Snowy white linens covered the bed those helpers wheeled into the room across from him, and the absence of medical equipment told Nuada there wasn't an injured fairy on the way. Curiosity built as Nuada watched the healers assemble themselves, but he was completely unprepared for what he saw next. As Lord Niall gently laid the sleeping form of Grace down on that bed, Nuada felt his very soul go numb. Off that couch and against those bars in an instant, Nuada was praying his eyes deceived him, yet they did not.

Suddenly Nuada realized what that Fairy intended to do . . . Lord Niall intended to punish him for his misdeeds in this most cruel way . . . not by hurting him, but by making him watch Grace suffer. Disbelief washed over Nuada as he watched two guardians prepare to hold her down, his mind refusing to accept the words floating across that stark cold corridor . . . Niall wanted Savan to take his time, and as he instructed before, he wanted a double dose this time.

"You will never martyr your own flesh and blood to harm me!" Nuada growled at Niall across that hall. "Not even you are so heartless or cruel!"

Nuada honestly thought this was a very cold and calculated bluff, an extreme attempt to get his attention. The striking blonde creature was positive Niall would never actually go through with this, but Nuada was about to find out very different.

"Grace is stronger than even you realize." Niall told Nuada coldly, coming to stand in the brightly lit hallway and glare down his perfect silken nose at him. "Her memories will be erased, and this day will be no more than another unpleasant dream. You on the other hand will remember this forever . . . every second, every minute, every hour . . . and I sincerely hope that you do."

Without so much as a sympathetic glance from those sea green eyes, Niall turned his back and walked away, leaving Nuada clinging to those heavy metal bars, stunned to silence as he waited for that torturous transfer to begin. Pacing came first as the healers formed their circle, anger quickly following when he heard Grace squeal in surprise, waking up suddenly as the guardians took hold of her, then pure rage when that burning light touched her flesh for the first time.

There were no words to describe what Grace and Nuada would suffer through that day – torment, torture, misery – nothing even came close. Tanned flesh writhed in pain beneath that burning sapphire light being forced into her very soul, moans morphed into outright screams, and it only got worse. Grace fought violently against the transfer, she always did, but without Nuada there to comfort her, it was an all out war, and Grace was winning.

Frantic to comfort her, Nuada struggled for any way to reach Grace, but there was none. That cell holding him not only blocked his ability to transport himself, it also blocked his ability for mental projection. If physically holding her was impossible, Nuada would have asserted himself within her mind, blocked the pain as Grace was experiencing it, but he was powerless.

"Erulissë . . . Erulissë listen to my voice!" Nuada called to her as he strained against the horrible cage that held him, praying he could reach Grace in some way, desperate to comfort her. His beautifully accented voice did not have the desired effect, quite the opposite. Hearing Nuada call her name brought everything from the night before rushing back, and if that creature thought watching the woman he loved experience physical pain was unbelievably cruel, sharing her mental pain was so very much worse.

Like a rabid animal, every painful image from the previous night crawled its way across that corridor, slowly chewing its way into Nuada's mind, maiming his very soul and threatening to leave it for dead. Heart wrenching revelations came, one after another, as Nuada silently relived every moment of the previous night with Grace . . . the pain of him leaving her that afternoon, the fight to heal Haldir's wounds, waging war against that warg, the embarrassment of having her thoughts revealed to the entire hall of marchwardens, being spit on by Cerylia . . . she'd screamed out for him, mentally begging Nuada to come and save her, and he did nothing. In his drunken stupor, Nuada didn't even hear her, and it only got worse . . .

Devastated and desperate for comfort, Grace had only wanted one thing - even though Nuada didn't answer her calls in that marchwarden hall – all Grace wanted in the world that night was Nuada. Her very soul cried out for the man she loved to comfort her. Loved . . . under the worst possible circumstances Nuada became instantly and painfully aware that Grace loved him. That word hadn't only been on the tip of his tongue the day before, that emotion had filled her heart, and if he'd only stayed with her - stayed the way Grace literally begged him to - Grace would have given herself to him forever.

Staggered to his very core, Nuada sank to his knees, folding right down onto that beautifully carpeted floor. The feel of cold steel against his cheek reminded Nuada this was real, it was not a twisted dream and he would not be waking up. Liquor dimmed images slowly began to clear, forcing Nuada to face the reality of what really happened in that dark room at Crash Mansion. Niall didn't destroy that bed, Grace did. She'd come searching for comfort, but she only found pain . . . Grace found him having sex with Serena, and it had nearly destroyed her.

That revelation nearly destroyed Nuada in return. Clutching those unforgiving metal bars for support, Nuada was dumbfounded. How could he have been so stupid . . . or so cruel? How could he have allowed liquor and lust to reduce him to this? For the first time in five thousand years Nuada loved someone and as unbelievable as it seemed, Grace loved him in return.

The primal scream that tore from his body was every bit as earth shattering as the one that tore from Grace the night before, a symbol of the unrelenting pain that raged within him, his very soul shattering beneath the weight of what he had done. Dragging himself up off that floor, Amarande Nuada made up his mind he would get across that hall to Grace. He would stop this insanity, and he would never, ever leave the woman he loved again.

Lord Niall demanded the transfer take hours, and it did, but not because he requested it. Two wars were being waged along those glowing white corridors, and as every minute ticked past, the casualties mounted. Grace fought violently against that transfer, and Nuada unfurled his rage against that cage that held him, and both slowly went insane.

The pain flowing through Nuada's voice as he called to Grace was palpable, every pitiful cry becoming more soul baring as hour after torturous hour two voices raw with pain echoed down that bright white corridor, every sound that crossed Grace's lips being met by an answering one from across that hall. Savan had seen the obvious bond between Nuada and Grace the night he brought her to be healed, but obviously it had strengthened, and as the hours passed, it became painfully clear to everyone present the two beings confined within those white walls were deeply bonded.

"Erulissë . . . Erulissë!"

Not only was Nuada calling to Grace, Grace was listening. Mentally and physically incapacitated by what she was enduring, something in the farthest depths of her burning mind still heard that voice, because every time Nuada called her name, Grace visibly responded. Tanned flesh dancing with blue flames fought to escape, and as time passed, two guardians became four, then six, as menacing dark figures found themselves unable to restrain the little human fighting against the torment that consumed her. Grace kicked, she screamed, she cursed, she raged against them all, and across that hall Nuada matched every motion of her painful struggles with a sick voluntary torture of his own, raging against that cell that held him.

"Erulissë . . . Erulissë!"

Flesh slammed into steel, bones began to break, blood droplets splattered across a perfect white tile floor . . . sad sounds of determination filtered through those strange white rooms, floating across that corridor and into the cell where Grace was being restrained. Nuada was hurling himself against the steel bars that held him, screaming out her name, determined to let Grace know he was there – determined he would not abandon her this time. Soon that beautifully accented voice had been reduced to no more than a hoarse rasp, his body bruised, bloody and mangled, yet Nuada would not stop.

"Erulissë . . . Erulissë!"

Never before had Savan seen a creature so determined, so completely possessed with a single idea. Every soul wrenching scream of her name chilled him, every smack of skin against steel made him cringe, and the sick sound of blood splattering across the corridor after every blow was mind numbing. Nuada's tortured soul was determined he would get to Grace even if he had to tear the stone walls out of that building to get there, and if he didn't kill himself first, that was becoming a very real possibility. While the formidable steel creation that made up the front of his cell wasn't moving, the very blocks that held it there were. Nuada was cracking the mortar joints loose, and if he kept it up, he was indeed going to tear the whole front of it off and soon.

"Nuada is destroying himself." Savan told Niall harshly, the very tone of his voice telling the fairy lord what he thought of his methods that day. "It cannot continue."

"You can heal him, or he can sit there until he heals himself." Niall answered coldly. "Nuada brought these things upon himself. There are consequences for actions, and his have been unacceptable so far as my great-grandchild is concerned. She might easily have been killed last night."

"That is of no consequence this day, for if we continue, we might very well kill her ourselves!" the beautiful man named after the moon snapped. Savan never showed signs of temper, but he was rapidly approaching the place where he would.

"Continue!" Niall ordered coldly, and with the most reluctance Savan and the other healers did.

Nuada continued as well. "Erulissë . . . Erulissë!"

Never before had Savan heard such painful cries from any creature . . . he did not know that any man could make a woman's voice retch from his very soul the way Nuada was at that very moment, and if he heard it one more time, he felt positive even his ancient and stoic soul was going to snap. That was exactly the forty-third time Nuada had called that name . . . that strange, and now oddly strangled voice raw and hoarse from screaming, pleading for this madness to end . . . begging for anyone to stop the pain.

"Erulissë . . . Erulissë!"

Silently counting Nuada's tortured screams, Savan knew every time Grace flamed blue and turned her head toward the sound of his voice. Forty-eight, forty-nine times Nuada had called her name.

"Enough!" Savan bellowed, his voice resounding so loudly the very walls trembled. The healer's decision was made. Nuada would not get to fifty.

"You will . . ."

"I will do as I please, and I please to release him." Savan revealed firmly. "This is my domain, and I control what takes place within these walls. That creature will be set free, and I believe you need to leave." His voice was as cool as the moonlight he resembled, but a fire burned in the depths of those deep green eyes, silently telling Lord Niall his decision would not be questioned.

"Erulissë . . .!"

As the two powerful fairies faced off with one another, Nuada did make it to fifty, and when that shattered voice sobbed out her name that last time – the fiftieth time Nuada's desperate soul screamed for the woman he loved – his broken body found it's way against the front of that horrible cell one last time, and the sad sound of a shattered voice was suddenly joined by the sound of splintering concrete and floor tiles as the piercing crash of metal being ripped apart burst through every room in that entire level. Nuada had succeeded. He had finally torn down the bars that kept him from Grace, and that broken creature collapsed right on top of them.

Something inside Grace collapsed too, and somehow her mangled mind clawed its way through the pain that held her, the linked aura to a broken soul responding to his desperate cry. Every molecule in her body felt Nuada's body hit that floor on top of those cold metal bars, actually feeling the coolness of the metal against her skin as he lay bleeding in that hall. Consumed by the torturous blue flames that held her, Grace suddenly commanded them, reversing their flow and throwing them back at everything that was hurting her, everything that was hurting the man she loved. Waves of furious power rolled, hurling guardians against unforgiving stone walls, shoving supernatural healers as powerful as any who ever lived away, breaking their sacred circle for the very first time.

Lurching up in that bed, Grace screamed out her reply . . . "N u a d a!"

Victorious in his mission, a slight smile touched Niall's face and in that instant Lord Niall was gone. Savan remained, determined to stop the rain of destruction that was threatening and replace it with gentle showers of healing. Soothing whispers in a forbidden language gently floated upon the air, a commanding wave ordered the healing circle to safety, a vicious glare dared the slowly recovering guardians to move. Ancient hands of perfect moonlit skin stood ready to assist as Grace slid blindly from the bed. Disoriented and dizzy, Grace struggled, incapable of seeing and unable to walk, she had no idea where she was or how to get to Nuada. A sympathetic heart broke as her tortured body sank to the floor, softly pointed ears hearing her scream his name, a magnificent healer feeling the pain of a shattered soul as it begged the one bonded to it to answer one last time.

The night Grace was blind at the wading pools, she knew Nuada was there . . . sensed his presence, knew he was injured. This was no different. Overcome by the fierce light that was still burning her, Grace was still painfully aware of Nuada's presence, and now she was determined to get to him. "Nuada . . . N u a d a!" Now it was his name being called repeatedly, her raw voice calling to him and echoing down that destroyed white corridor.

"Erulissë . . ." It was not a scream, not even a cry. It was the most painfully whispered utterance of a name ever heard, moaned out of a crushed chest, begging for forgiveness. Broken in body and spirit, Nuada now lay in a bleeding heap amidst a pile of rubble under the glaring lights of what used to be a pristine white hall, tormented eyes glazed by pain staring up at the ceiling, a crippled mind wondering if this hell he found himself in would ever release him.

Hell answered that cry, blue flames flying in every direction, burning hot enough to roll the paint from the walls, singeing the perfect white robes of Savan as he stood silently watching, running scorched cracks across the leather clothing that covered the guardians who had held her, burning the very hair of the ones who'd restrained her. Wild animals will fight viciously to escape, kill to defend their mate and this was very much the same. Grace was hurting – she knew Nuada was injured - and she would readily kill to get to him if that's what it took.

"Quiet yourself child, I shall help you." Savan told her quietly, trying to reassure Grace that no one else would harm her.

Grace turned unseeing grey eyes full of tears up to meet that beautiful moonlit face, feeling the coolness of gentle hands as that magnificent and compassionate healer lifted her, releasing Grace to the man who fought so valiantly to reach her. "Nuada . . ." Grace whispered, her voice so torn it could barely force sound.

"Yes child, Nuada is here. Quiet now, I shall take you." Savan's voice was the true voice of a healer, just the sound of it beautiful, like a soothing balm to her burning soul. The power to heal and repair things was not restricted to flesh, and with closed eyes and a subtle wave of his hand, Savan restored that corridor. Busted concrete blocks were as before, a smooth and perfect white tile floor replaced, yet the wicked metal bars that formed the front of that horrible cell were gone and they would never be returned.

Unable to offer Grace much assistance for fear of being consumed by those roaring blue flames, Savan carefully nudged her into the hallway. Easing in front of her, Savan ran startled eyes over the crumpled man who lay there. The damage to the building may be repaired, the beautiful white tile floor his body now rested against smooth and cool again, but Nuada was still broken.

Eyes are supposed to be windows to the soul, and if the pain reflected in those glittering emerald jewels was any indication of what Nuada was feeling, Savan wondered if any amount of healing would ever soothe it. Nuada had mangled his body, incapable of even accepting the hand Savan offered as the healer came to his aid, and his heart had fared no better. Undeterred, the compassionate fairy simply wrapped gentle arms underneath his broken form, ever so carefully sitting him up, wanting Nuada to see that the woman he fought so desperately to reach was now making her way to his side. Savan's gentle support was the only thing that held Nuada upright, and those emerald eyes slowly filled with tears at the sight before him.

The odd scent of sweat and coppery blood twisted against leather and spice told her Nuada was close, and Grace sank to the floor, everything else forgotten and she frantically tried to reach the man she loved. The flames that traced along her flesh reached him before her fingers did, actually jumping to mingle with the blood that now flowed from the busted flesh of his body. Frantic fingers spit flames as they first touched his leg, carefully tracing their way up his body, the tears falling from her eyes leaving tiny clear trails as they traced through the seeping red dampness that covered him. Finally Grace could feel her way to press trembling palms against a chest struggling for breath, sliding her hand through those crimson streaks until it rested against his heart.

"Nuada . . .blood . . .?" Grace whispered, knowing from the smell and the slickness of his flesh he was covered in it. Simple words were all Grace could manage. Her brain was so completely overwhelmed by the sapphire flames that continued to tear through her she was incapable of anything more.

Elegant hands could not reach for her, porcelain flesh wrapped over broken bones would not respond, his voice the only thing Nuada could offer in response. "Erulissë," Nuada managed to rasp in reply, "saes, please forgive me."

Grace said nothing, pulling him from Savan's gentle arms to wrap him in hers, as desperate now to comfort Nuada as he had been to comfort her. The healing flames danced, deep blue flickers racing to ever so gently caress every inch of the man before her, slowly and carefully tending to every wound she could not see, mending every bone she could not touch, easing every pain she could not feel. If those burning green eyes bore witness to the feelings Nuada held for Grace that night he cradled her on the couch of that apartment, it was nothing compared to the warning that burned in hers as she ran bloody fingers through that long blonde hair. Any creature that ever again harmed the man she stood guard over at that moment would certainly die.

Tears ran unchecked down blood stained cheeks as Nuada gently sought to return her comfort, pulling Grace into the now perfect arms she had so desperately longed for, and when the first sob tore from her, he simply clutched her tighter. "Saes Goheno nin, please forgive me . . . Le melon . . . I love you Erulissë and I am so very sorry." A voice raw with pain begged for forgiveness, a soul that had never loved before pleading for understanding, eyes that never before produced a single tear flowing in remorse.

It was the most horrible and beautiful thing Savan had ever witnessed, the sight of two souls forever bound, so desperate for the others comfort that they would do anything to reach the other. Knowing his work was done, Savan silently rose to his feet and slipped away, quietly lowering the lights, leaving the two alone. They would not be disturbed again, not within these walls.

The powerful healer was both pleased and curious when he returned some time later, finding them quietly resting on the huge couch in what was no longer a horrible cell, but simply a very nice room, Grace laying calm and content cradled against that now perfect porcelain chest. Nuada had slipped Grace into a deep sleep spell, leaving her only long enough to take a shower, then carefully returning to her side, washing every speck of his blood from her before pulling her into his arms again. Exhausted, but whole again, Nuada would need to rest before he could return them to the apartment.

Easing himself into a nearby chair, Savan ran an inquisitive gaze over Nuada. "The child pleases you?" he asked quietly.

Nuada had been contentedly writing words in the flames on Grace's arm with a fingertip when he lifted glowing emerald eyes to meet those of the healer, and Savan was relieved to see the burning light was returned to the depths of them. "Erulissë does far more than please me." Nuada answered softly, and Savan knew she did . . . much, much more.

"I have come to ask a favor of sort. Please do not take offense." Savan said carefully, suspecting his request might very well infuriate the now satisfied creature sitting on that couch. Tired or not, Nuada was still the most formidable adversary imaginable, and Savan wanted to keep him calm and content until he chose to leave.

Nuada didn't speak, but his eyes told Savan he was listening.

"I wish to draw a blood sample from the girl . . . see how this elf blood and fairy essence are combining. It might prove very revealing to some of our research." Savan's voice was as soothing as possible, and he hoped Nuada did not explode.

Without so much as blinking, Nuada simply lowered his eyes back to Grace's arm, retracing the words he was writing up and down her tanned flesh in little bright blue flickering letters. At first, Savan didn't believe Nuada would even acknowledge him, but he finally did raise his eyes again. "Let us understand something healer." He answered quietly, that beautiful voice even but definitely warning in its tone. "You may have your sample, but Erulissë belongs to me. Never will she be a part of what takes place within these walls. Heniach nin . . . Do you understand?"

The gentle nod Savan offered Nuada in return told him he understood perfectly, and Nuada intended to explain that very thing to Lord Niall the next time they saw one another. From this moment forward, no one needed to believe Grace would ever be anything but by his side. Contemplating that, a faint frown began to crease Nuada's face, deepening when Savan returned.

Reentering the cell with the required instruments for taking the blood sample, Savan looked over Grace and Nuada uncertainly. Brilliant blue flames continued to roar beneath her flesh, and Savan knew had any other creature besides Nuada been holding Grace, they would have died. The powerful healer knew, Nuada did too . . . Niall had insisted on a double dose and although she hadn't gotten all of it, the amount was still far too much . . . Her subconscious mind and body were struggling to control them, and Grace was failing. This kind of trauma could permanently damage a human, and Savan knew as well as Nuada if Niall's torturous plan had harmed that fragile human girl in his arms there was an excellent chance the Fairy Lord would die.

Unable to touch her for more than a quick moment, Savan had to look to Nuada for assistance, and he very begrudgingly offered it. Gently taking Grace's arm in his hands, Nuada tried to secure it with the tourniquet, but the flames kept melting it away, so finally he was forced to simply clamp his hands around her arm, positive he was bruising her. "Rhaich! Hurry up!" He snapped, irritated to no end.

Savan finally managed to get the blood he wanted, but it was somewhat of a struggle as Grace's veins were scarred terribly from her previous accident and rehabilitation. Determined not to waste one precious drop, the ancient healer was concentrating on getting the vial capped when he suddenly froze, not believing what he was seeing. The small trickle of blood that was beginning to trace from Grace's arm was being met by a matching one now ever so slowly beginning to work it's way down Nuada's arm as he held her. Stunned into silence, Savan knew no matter what Niall's original intentions were as to the events of that day, he had most definitely succeeded in doing one thing to perfection. The bond between Grace and Nuada had deepened to a point he had never seen before, and he could only wonder what that meant for each of them.

Glancing to his arm, Nuada traded a knowing look with Savan. "How many more times?"

Frowning slightly, Savan thought for a moment. "Two, possibly three . . . the transfer is nearly complete."

Quickly brushing the blood from his arm, Nuada nodded to the healer before catching the trickle from Grace with a fingertip. Running his tongue against the crimson stain, Nuada was surprised to find her very blood tasted like sunshine and warmth, and he wondered how he ever survived without Grace in his life. Settling back onto the couch, Nuada pulled Grace close against him again, soothing himself by stroking her cheek as he took in the intoxicating smell of her hair.

"I am yours." Nuada whispered in her ear. "Forever yours Erulissë."


	37. Force

Chapter 37 – Force

Exhausted alabaster arms cradled the sleeping form of the woman he loved against his chest as Nuada prepared to lower Grace into his bed. More than fifteen hours had passed since Lord Niall gently slipped Grace from Sookie Stackhouse's spare bedroom, and after the unbelievable events at Facility Four, Nuada was exhausted to the point of collapse. That warm, soft human body was providing exactly the comfort he needed, and Nuada intended to curl up beside Grace under those obnoxious navy blue silk covers and stay there forever if she was willing.

Running concerned eyes over her sleeping face, Nuada silently prayed Grace would emerge from this unscathed. Tanned flesh burned bright enough to softly light the room, the direct result of an overwhelming amount of her grandfather's essence being unceremoniously dumped into her, and while that little temple massage he'd given Grace on the couch in Facility Four was enough to quiet her mind for a time, there were still important decisions to be made.

The idea of erasing it all from her memories was more than tempting, but Nuada would never forget how Grace came to him in that corridor. As unbelievable as the idea seemed, Nuada found himself tempted by the most tantalizing thought he had ever entertained . . . Grace loved him. Didn't that love deserve the truth . . . or would that truth destroy her love? Pulling Grace even tighter in his arms, Nuada placed a loving kiss on her forehead, allowing his mind to drift toward enticing thoughts of warm kisses and gentle caresses, only to be jerked back to reality by the violent crash of splintering wood.

Furious at the lack of response to his repeated phone calls and the unbelievably distraught condition of his fiancée, Eric Northman was livid. Eric Northman could also fly, and he'd been hovering outside the windows of that apartment since the sun fell, not so patiently waiting for some sign of life inside. That blue glow bleeding through the window blinds told Eric somebody was officially home now, and he'd just unceremoniously kicked in the massive carved wooden door granting entry to that luxury apartment.

"Where the fuck is she?" the enraged voice came bellowing down the hall, Eric shifting his form from the gaping hole where the front door used to be into the bedroom instantly, knowing from that strange blue light Grace was obviously there.

"Erulissë has not been harmed Eric." Nuada told his friend calmly, seeing that Logan had joined them as well. "Although she is sleeping . . . however, if you continue to behave this way, she certainly will not be for long."

That statement wasn't entirely true. Grace was going to be sleeping for quite some time compliments of that sleep spell she was under, and Nuada knew it. What he didn't know was that Grace wasn't going to be sleeping with him, because in that instant his throat was closed off by two giant golden arms encased in soft cream fabric of the finest elven weave. Slipping into darkness, Nuada could only watch as Haldir of Lorien effortlessly snatched Grace's sleeping body from his arms.

Military precision derived from hundreds of years of practice allowed for the perfect kidnapping, and as fast as those two elves appeared, they disappeared. In under five seconds Grace was gone – again.

If it hadn't been so alarming it was almost funny in a really sick way – the only thing missing was if Glorfindel would have smacked Nuada on the head and said "Tag, you're it!" After all, who knew human snatching was the latest supernatural rage? Eric Northman and Logan certainly didn't, and if seeing those plants move shocked the shit out of Logan, it was nothing compared to that little episode. There was something so very wrong with people who just appeared and disappeared like that – it just wasn't natural dammit!

Natural or not, Nuada was certainly ready to tag something when he woke up a few minutes later, and so were those two vampires. Standing in the perfect darkness of a luxury apartment staring at an empty bed, Nuada found himself not getting ready to make love, but wondering what the fuck just happened. What just happened was that the battle lines were being drawn between the fairies and the elves, and Grace was that line. Eric Northman might be determined to protect Grace from the elves, but those elves were determined to protect Grace from Lord Niall, and Nuada intended to protect her from everybody.

Too bad nobody was bothering to ask Grace what she wanted – she just slept through the whole damn thing! If Grace had been awake, Glorfindel would have asked that little human girl what she wanted, and that massive elf intended to once she woke up. A steadily deteriorating mood and vicious demeanor haunted the golden warrior since leaving Grace behind Fangtasia, and after watching Haldir of Lorien suffer through every minute of Grace's torment at Facility Four, that elf was in a dangerous frame of mind to say the least.

There was a very special little golden ring that could have prevented most of this. Unfortunately that spellbound ring of Gandalf's was officially MIA, and Glorfindel didn't even know he was the reason why. Snuggled securely into it's little hiding place inside Haldir's cloak, that cloak was thrown across a club chair covered in beautiful red flowers right in the corner of Grace's den, exactly where Grace tossed it after Glorfindel returned her from the marchwarden's hall. Haldir had no idea what happened to his cloak after he got mauled – that warg may have eaten it for all he knew - but whatever happened, those elves were positive that ring was gone.

It's painful absence assured Haldir of Lorien would suffer every moment of Grace's torment right along with her, and he did. Every scream that tore from Grace after she discovered Nuada in Crash Mansion ripped through his mind, every soul wrenching cry she moaned out during those torturous hours inside that healing circle crawled through his very blood, and every sapphire flame that burnt Grace during those hours of unrelenting torture cooked his soul.

Pain and suffering lead to desperation, and while there were unbelievable safeguards in place against a physical or mental assault on Facility Four, there were no rules against simply waiting for Grace leave, so Haldir did - Lord Niall wasn't the only thing with pointed ears who could wait a few hours to snatch Grace's sleeping form out from under somebody. While Eric and Logan planned to intercept Nuada and ask what the hell was going on, the marchwarden decided on a much more direct "take now, ask questions later" approach. Haldir couldn't tolerate any more of that torture, and Glorfindel agreed. They would get to the bottom of what was happening to Grace, and unbeknownst to anyone else, Glorfindel had already decided – he would never return Grace unless she personally asked him to.

Mind numbing exhaustion combined with evidence of deep emotional trauma convinced Eric Northman his closest friend was in absolutely no condition for a pursuit of Grace to the elven realm, but even in his reduced state it still took everything those two vampires had to hold Nuada down until he could calm himself. Thankfully, vicious ranting in unfamiliar languages finally transformed into civil conversation, and Eric began to get the answers he came for.

Settling himself onto a massive brown leather sofa, Eric's opening statement was quite revealing to say the least. "I intend to kill the next thing with pointed ears that goes in Sookie's house . . . Heniach nin Nuada . . . Do you understand me?"

Eric didn't speak elven, but he picked up on that little phrase, and it seemed oddly fitting at that moment. Nuada's growled out threats were no more sincere that night in the kitchen than his were in that den. Eric Northman fully intended to kill the next unwelcome visitor who snuck into Sookie's house and snatched somebody!

Abstinence forgotten, Nuada didn't even blink as he gulped down yet another glass of Crown Royal. "Your words would be better directed toward the appropriate creature who possesses pointed ears," he told Eric, "for I am not the one responsible for those actions."

"You are exempted from that statement my friend. I know Niall took Grace, and so help me he better never come after Sookie like that!" Eric fumed. "I smelled him . . . and Fairy Lord or not, he dies as easily as the next creature."

"Indeed he does." Nuada answered coolly, swirling slowly melting cubes of ice around in his crystal tumbler. "I am considering killing that fairy myself."

Those words stunned Eric, and the vampire immediately knew his friend had much more to share than he originally suspected. Nuada looked so angry, Eric honestly wondered if he could control himself, and Eric face softened at the obvious pain marking his tortured expression. "Nuada, what has Niall done?" Eric asked sincerely, his concern genuine.

Unable to articulate his emotions, Nuada could only stare blankly at the floor, incapable of finding the words to explain.

"Nuada," the concerned vampire prompted again, "tell me what happened. What did Niall do after he took Grace? What happened after you left Crash Mansion?"

Tortured emerald eyes finally met the soft blue ones of the only true friend Nuada had ever known. The past twenty-four hours were some of the worst Amarande Nuada ever endured, and the burden of what transpired at Facility Four in conjunction with just having Grace snatched from him yet again was eating his mangled soul alive. Nuada had been tortured before, beaten and burnt, cussed and cut, stomped and spit on. He survived, even became stronger for it, but to see Grace hurt because of him . . . he simply could not accept what the Fairy Lord had done.

Desperately needing to unburden his soul, that creature sat down for the first time in five thousand years and told a genuine friend how he felt. At first the words formed simple halting statements as Nuada carefully apologized for his stupid mistakes and confessed love for Grace. Unfortunately, the story did not end there, and Eric Northman could only listen in stunned silence as a strangely accented voice still hoarse from screaming assumed the flat, emotionless monotone a trauma victim takes on when they are reliving what happened to them.

There was less light in the depths of those beautiful green eyes when Nuada finished speaking, and Eric couldn't help the terrible frown that held his face. Never before would Eric have imagined Niall would be so cruel or cold, and he could only imagine how he would feel if their roles were reversed. Sookie Stackhouse was also one of Lord Niall's great-grandchildren, and if Nuada was right, the deranged fairy intended the same things be done to her one day – and he most certainly would not be there to comfort her either.

"Nuada . . . I'm unbelievably sorry," Eric told him sincerely, "and I will help you fight this every way I can, but know one thing first. If that's what is involved in this transfer ritual, I'll never allow it to happen to Sookie. That damn fairy might get hold of her one time, but I'll turn Sookie before he ever has a chance to do it again. Do we understand each other?"

"Saes, rest easy mellon nín. If that time comes, I will assist you." Nuada assured him quietly.

"Yeah, I seem to recall you promised to assist Grace too and I see how well that's working out for her!" Came Logan's sarcastic snarl from across the room, eliciting an immediate frown from both Nuada and Eric. Logan was welcome to listen, but he wasn't really invited to participate in this particular conversation.

Seeing the terrible frown at the very mention of her name, Eric could guess the answer to his next question. "You haven't talked to Grace yet, have you?"

Raising pale fingers to his temples, Nuada simply nodded. No. Since healing him, Grace had been sound asleep, Nuada knowing peaceful rest was the best way to control those blue flames that still raced beneath her skin.

Eric could clearly see something was still weighing terribly on Nuada's mind, and he was just waiting for him to spit it out. "Nuada," he prompted, "tell me."

Green eyes glistened in pain, as they met Eric's. "What if Erulissë hates me now? What if she refuses to forgive me? Perhaps if there was another way . . ."

Leaning back farther into that sumptuous leather, Eric had all ideas where this was going, and it was a very, very bad idea. Elves and fairies weren't the only ones with the power to erase memories. Vampires did it all the time, but that didn't make it the solution to every problem either. Eric Northman knew that first hand because Sookie was a telepath and immune to being glamored, and there had certainly been times he'd tried!

Looking over Nuada very carefully, Eric was very serious with his advise. "If you love Grace, don't even try to hide this from her – don't hide any of it. It's time to tell her the truth. Believe me, she'll find out . . . someday, somehow I promise you she'll know and it will be a hundred times worse when she does."

"I do not believe I could survive losing Erulissë." Nuada whispered, his voice shattered, so painful and low Eric could barely stand the sound of it echoing against those twenty foot ceilings.

"You will never lose Grace." Eric told him firmly. "Now get some sleep. We will deal with this, and Grace will be home soon enough."

The friends exchanged understanding glances as Eric and Logan headed for the busted door. "Sleep! I'll take care of the door!" The vampire called back as they exited through the gaping hole.

Eric wasn't upset with Nuada. His friend did not take Grace from Sookie's house, nor was he to blame for the mental torment the pretty blonde endured as Grace's pain reflected back to her from Facility Four. No, Nuada and Eric would remain friends, and not only were they friends, they were now even stronger allies, dedicated to protecting the women they loved from the misguided love of the Fairy Lord so determined to control them.

Control was something everyone involved in this unusual and twisted game of human snatching was after, but not everyone seemed to understand the seriousness of this game they were playing. Grace was not well, and when she woke up, an entirely different game was going to commence. If Nuada wasn't there to help her, there was no telling what she would do.

What to do was actually being violently debated at that very moment, right over Grace's sleeping form, and she was actually quite lucky to be under that sleeping spell because Haldir and Glorfindel were waging holy hell within that beautifully appointed bedchamber on the southern end of Imladris. The plan to retrieve Grace was quickly formed and flawlessly executed. Unfortunately, Haldir and Glorfindel did not agree on the game plan from that point forward, and neither elf knew where to go from here.

His hatred for the fae was not in dispute, but while Glorfindel might not appreciate fairies or their relatives, he suddenly found himself oddly concerned for Grace. The human's impressive capacity for healing made a lasting impression on the accomplished healer, while her complete and utter destruction of that warg touched his warrior spirit. Most captivating of all, the little human had cared enough to show concern for his needs, and Glorfindel was convinced if his wounds deserved attention, so did hers.

Watching Haldir suffer while Grace was being tortured at Facility Four had been excruciating, and Glorfindel could hardly imagine if sharing her pain was that bad what the real thing felt like. Visions of warg drool and elf spit intermingled with memories of painful cries echoing through a beautiful rose garden then bouncing off strange black walls, and altogether the combination convinced Glorfindel the human had suffered enough. Grace deserved a peaceful existence, and everyone could voluntarily back off, or they could be forced to step away.

Grace's safety was certainly a concern to Haldir as well, but the violent rage and uncontrollable lust the human could instantly evoke from him were unacceptable. Haldir was deeply appreciative to Grace for saving his life, but he meant his words in that little white house – the marchwarden would forever be her friend, but never again her lover. The blood bond that drove their lust had to be severed - not simply because it was dangerous - but because the marchwarden general was ready to focus his attentions on an entirely different sort of bond. After centuries of loneliness Haldir was tired. He wanted to come home to a warm body and a waiting kiss, and the only way to be with Cerylia, was to free himself from Grace.

Oblivious to the sleeping human they were supposed to be guarding, Haldir and Glorfindel fought violently throughout the day, drawing unsolicited attention to themselves and their surprise house guest. Unsuspecting and unaware, Lord Elrond found himself stunned when he entered that bedchamber, instantly turned into an impromptu referee forced to mediate the warrior's argument, all while struggling to gain knowledge as to the situation. Wild stories of magnificent healing, wars waged against wargs, and unsolicited visits to the earthen realm confounded the powerful elf lord, and Elrond could only wonder what the repercussions of those actions might be.

Discouraged and disgusted, even an attempt to settle himself by taking tea on the terrace with Gandalf proved for naught. Just as the sun was setting, Lord Niall showed up threatening to kill them all, and the repercussions of Grace being brought to Rivendell became glaringly evident. Ignorance was no excuse, and ruling Lords were responsible for their subjects. While Lord Elrond honestly did not know of that secret plan Glorfindel and Haldir hatched to kidnap Grace, he was certainly going to be held accountable for it.

The sun's burning glare barely rivaled the angry flames dancing off his brother when Niall Brigant came bristling across the terrace of Imladris in the company of two guardians. Elrond's polite refusal to release Grace to his care until he could speak with the sleeping human only stoked his brother's anger, and the situation quickly began to deteriorate. Flames of fury roared in sea green eyes as Niall faced off with Lord Elrond across that cool stone table. No excuse was acceptable! Grace had been brought to the elven realm not once but now twice within the past two days! Ever calm under pressure, Elrond gruff yet firm voice was quick to remind his powerful brother yet again that marchwarden who's life his great-grandchild just saved was the very reason Grace was alive in the first place. Torture was acceptable under only the darkest of circumstances, and never should one of your own kind, one of your own blood be wielded as a weapon! The human girl could make her own choices from this day forward . . . the elves demanded her safety be assured, and that the truth be told. Every living thing had rights, and Grace could chose if she wanted to complete the ritual, could decide where she went, and decide who to heal.

Lightening poured from the emerging cracks in Niall's careful constructed human form, and his brother was fortunate to be half fae himself for fear of being blinded or destroyed. The only rights in dispute were his own! Grace was of fae descent, and the Fairy Lord's royal blood no matter how diluted demanded respect. The girl fell beneath his rule and by his command, Grace's days of elven friendships and visits to this realm were over. Grace had no choice in the matter, and neither did the elves! Melodic even in anger, Niall's voice reverberated against that smooth stone expanse, throwing itself against those beautiful pale walls and permeating the windows of that silent bedchamber . . . Glorfindel the Golden Warrior faced death for his actions, as did Haldir of Lorien . . . Grace's happiness was forfeit, her relationship with Nuada nearly destroyed, and his great-grandchild had been allowed to face down a warg!

Pretty pointed ears are not just for looks. They provide an extremely well developed sense of hearing, and Glorfindel's were no exception. Golden hair shining with the intensity of the sun itself reflected that burning light right back at Niall when that golden warrior himself stalked across the terrace, elf speak thundering against the afternoon sky as Glorfindel's markedly non-sunny disposition came to bear. The Fairy Lord had an open ended invitation to summon so many guardians as he saw fit and just try to kill him! A balrog was felled by those very golden hued hands, and a Fairy Lord would fall just as easily. Refusing Elrond's demands to calm, that blistering glare Glorfindel added to his words left little to interpretation:

If you're feeling froggy fairy lord, jump on it – I'm right here waiting on ya!

Lord Niall was disinclined to acquiesce to his request, but Nuada certainly wasn't. After ten hours of sleep, that powerful creature was ready, willing and quite able to jump on it. Appearing on the southern balcony dressed in his elven battle clothing, right down to that evil short staffed spear on his back, Nuada was just itching to jump on something, and he was about to.

No. It is one of the most powerful words in the English language – actually in any language, and depending on the circumstances under which it is used, it tends to evoke very strong emotions, particularly in the person who's on the receiving end of it.

"No." Haldir told Nuada. His voice was carefully even, not angry or threatening in any way, the simple firmness of his tone telling Nuada he meant it.

Lightening flashed in those piercing green eyes instantly letting Haldir know what Nauda thought of that refusal, but the marchwarden was unmoved. Firmly planted in the doorway leading into that bedchamber, Haldir just stared down that perfect pale nose of his at Nuada.

Looking very much like a sleeping child, Nuada could clearly see Grace over Haldir's shoulder, neatly tucked under a pristine white coverlet in that bed, her expression gentle in sleep . . . and it pissed him off to no end. That woman was supposed to be sleeping in his bed – not that one!

"Mellon nín, A'maelamin Erulissë lies within these walls, and I have come to claim her." Nuada answered viciously, easing a step closer. Politeness was optional, and patience was not one of Amarande Nuada's strong points.

"Grace is safe here." Haldir told him coldly. "Which is most certainly not what she was before being brought to this place."

Green eyes burned with furious flames of their own as Nuada ran a scathing glare of warning over Haldir's expressionless face. "Erulissë will forever be safe by my side, which is where I intend her to stay for the rest of her days."

Ocean depths are not colder than the deep blue eyes that met his stare, and Haldir could not control the look of contempt that slowly crept across his face. "Surprising news . . . considering you were discovered in the arms of another recently."

Discovered . . . that was one word for it. Rubbing salt in an open wound was another, or Haldir could have taken the direct approach again and spit in Nuada's face considering it was the verbal equivalent. Without time to regret his words, Haldir did not even blink again before finding the gleaming edge of that spear resting directly under his chin, and Nuada's eyes never even shifted as he spoke. "Mellon nín, there are simple choices this day. Erulissë finds her way into my arms at this moment, or you find yours forever empty. Choose marchwarden."

If Glorfindel hadn't placed his hand on Nuada's arm at that exact moment, there was an overwhelming chance Haldir would've found Nuada's beautifully tooled spear shoved through his brain. "Come, sit my friends." Glorfindel commanded, very carefully keeping that huge hand firmly planted on the muscles twitching in anticipation beneath it. "The Lords demand we discuss the Pinilyaer, and her care."

An alley cat about to hack up a hairball has a more pleasant facial expression than Nuada gave Glorfindel, and both elves wondered if Nuada would spontaneously combust right there. "There is absolutely nothing to discuss," he hissed out viciously, "for I can assure you on your very lives, when I leave this place, Erulissë shall also be leaving - in my care."

***************************************

WTF? Glowing walls, carved woodwork, comfortable temperature, soft breeze tossing around gossamer curtains with glistening gold and silver embroidery along their edges . . . this was Rivendell! The deep fog of someone who's been under forced sedation clung to every crevice of Grace's mind as she struggled to lift her head, and nothing was telling her how she came to be in this magical place again.

The last thing she remembered . . . the last thing she remembered . . . Grace didn't know what the last thing she remembered was. Completely confused, she staggered to her feet, uncertainly making her way to the bathroom down the corridor, rinsing her face and taking care of necessities before returning to the bedchamber. Wild blue flickers were racing beneath her flesh, burning hot enough to steam the water as she washed her face, and Grace was powerless to stop them.

Little burned bare footprints marked her path as Grace made her way back to the bedchamber that haunted her dreams. Duer's summer gardens were in full bloom, and the gentle scent of flowers floated along the softest summer breeze, twining itself against the thin white fabric at the windows. Warm air carried more than beautiful fragrances, and heated voices began to filter into the room, sharper than rose thorns as they pierced the falling light. Grace, Pinilyaer, Erulissë . . . her name was being mentioned repeatedly, hissed actually, snarled and literally screamed back and forth over that courtyard table.

Carefully easing from the room, Grace slipped through the shadows, coming to the edge of the balcony rail to sit and listen – listen to a group of supernatural creatures debating her future. The voices were easy to recognize . . . Haldir, Glorfindel, Lord Elrond . . . Nuada, Lord Niall . . . Gandalf. Some of the words were muddled, hateful phrases were spat out in another language, but many things were clear . . . blood bond, transfer of essence . . . pain.

Pain. The word resounded through her very soul, striking against Grace's mind like a clock hammer at high noon, and somewhere the tiniest little puzzle piece of a memory snapped into place. Warm against her back, that heavily carved wooden column provided silent protection, massive marble columns wrapping her in the safety of elven arms as Grace let her eyes wander over those all too familiar floorboards.

Suddenly, Grace remembered sitting on that very balcony working the golden puzzle box. She'd worked so hard to get that first piece to slide in, but after a while it got easier, and soon they were flying into place. Huge grey eyes narrowed in concentration as Grace fought to focus her clouded mind. There were puzzle pieces in her mind . . . thousands of them . . . and she could work them, work them just like she did that puzzle box.

Frowning in concentration, eyes closed against the falling light, Grace fought against every little shard, forcing them to align themselves in that huge mental picture. Unaware that the burning sapphire flames now flickering within her offered assistance, it soon became easier, pieces moving faster, thousands of tiny little shards flying through her mind, silently slipping into place. Soon a very damaged – and very disturbing - picture emerged in her mind.

Clutching her arms around herself, Grace hid in the darkness. A violent dispute was raging on the terrace nearby, and she struggled to comprehend what the strange fragments of this horrible new nightmare meant. Trembling even in the warm evening air, Grace forced the thoughts away. Surely it was only another bad dream, because never would she believe her great-grandfather capable of doing the things in her mind. The strange man who looked like the moon did not exist, and Nuada certainly never screamed her name in pain that way.

Nuada . . . good lord . . . Nuada. Hot tears began to silently slip down her cheeks as Grace remembered, knowing that memory was most certainly not a dream. From the soft sheen of sweat that covered that perfect porcelain body as it pressed against the flesh of the werewolf in front of him right down to the feel of that coarse red hair as she tore it from that girl's scalp, Grace remembered. The sick smack of her naked flesh hitting hard leather resounded through her mind as Grace remembered throwing her, and Grace wondered if she'd actually let her jealousy reduce her to killing someone. Feeling her stomach knot, Grace struggled to her feet, knowing what was coming.

There are few more interesting ways to interrupt an intense conversation that for someone in close proximity to lean over the balcony railing and start puking their guts out with wild abandon, but Grace sure did, and they all watched . . . all six of them. It was a sight to behold as Grace clung to that heavy carved wooden railing, cursing to the top of her lungs, then interspersing her outbursts with gut wrenching heaves over the side.

Obviously, Grace was awake.

Muttering loudly under his breath, Glorfindel found himself being sent to check on Grace, and he couldn't help wondering why he was the intended victim of choice. The golden warrior intended to ask Grace how she felt about the activities of the past few days, but as he stood on that balcony watching her retch over the carved hand railing, then scream obscenities loud enough to scorch his ear hairs, the unenthusiastic elf really though it better to wait on that question. Hell, between the vile filth pouring from her mouth and her throat along with those sapphire blue flames that were scorching the railing, Glorfindel was damn positive it was better to wait. He'd watched Grace vomit before – shit on this!

Uncomfortable silence would hardly describe the atmosphere on that terrace as those six sets of eyes and ears carefully observed Grace as she ranted and raved her way across that balcony, and none of them were particularly encouraged when Grace left a row of little burnt footprints on the stones as she stomped her way to that courtyard table like she owned all of Imladris. Shit hitting the fan brings a very unique mental picture to mind of a most unpleasant experience, and those six men watching as she slid into a chair beside Gandalf were all positive they were gonna get some on them. They were right! Grace's piss off attitude was in full force, and when she opened her mouth, they knew it would be a very interesting night to say the least.

"Well halle-fucking-lulia! It's a family reunion," Grace ground out sarcastically, wild blue flames dancing beneath her skin as she ran burning eyes around the table. Locking a vicious glare on Nuada, Grace boiled with anger. Nuada could bite her lily white untanned ass in front of God and everybody for all Grace cared!

"So nice of you to come." She snarled out, and he cringed. The way she spit out the word "come" left Nuada little doubt what that comment referred to, and he was right. He was also nauseous and hot, and he had no idea why.

"Grace, stop that! There is important business to discuss." Lord Elrond's voice came cutting through the stillness. "I am sorry you have been returned to Imladris under unfortunate circumstances, and I am most apologetic for the . . . situations you have been involved in over the past days, but there are questions to be answered this night."

"Well I've got a few myself." Grace snapped. "Like why the hell am I here?"

Stony silence fell over that terrace, and Grace knew from the six concerned expressions staring back at her around that table she was fucked. She just didn't know why yet. There were some intense silent exchanges flying around that table and Grace knew a telepathic debate of monumental proportions was being held around her, she just couldn't hear it.

"No!" Nuada finally yelled out viciously. "Erulissë has been through enough! I have come to take her home, and we are leaving."

Watching that beautiful blonde hair shift on the breeze, and hearing her name called in that strange accent made Grace nauseous, and she wondered if she wouldn't throw up again right there. Glancing his way, Grace could see Nuada beginning to walk her way, and she could easily see he looked a little green around the gills himself. Refusing to pity him, Grace shoved that chair back in an instant. Sick or not, no way was Mr. Crash Mansion taking her ass home tonight!

"In your dreams asshole!" Grace hissed. "No way am I going home with you!"

The fact that Glorfindel was out of his chair told Grace he didn't think so either, and Grace found herself wondering what the hell she missed because there was certainly something going on here far outside of Nuada cheating on her . . . Haldir was on his feet too, and it looked very much like a free for all was about to break out right then and there.

"Erulissë!" Nuada growled out in a warning, repeating her name even louder when she started to back away. "Erulissë, we are going home!"

"Fuck off Nuada!" Grace ground out in return.

"Enough!" Lord Niall's voice demanded. "Nuada - Grace! Enough!"

Sitting on the end of that terrace, there were three things Niall Brigant wanted. He wanted Grace out of Rivendell and never returned, he wanted her to be happy again, and he wanted Grace and Nuada together – forever. For these things to happen, Nuada and Grace were going to have to resolve their differences. Feeling a sudden surge of philanthropy, that kind hearted fairy generously offered his assistance.

"Would you like for me to kill the whore for you child?" Niall asked sincerely. Serena disgusted him anyway, and if it made Grace happy, he'd gladly dispatch of that little problem!

Stunned already by her location and slowly clearing mental fog, Grace could not believe that question came out of her great-grandfather's mouth. Immensely relieved to discover she didn't already kill the werewolf, Grace had to admit the thought was pretty tempting, and she struggled to keep her raging temper in check. Carefully sliding her eyes from her great-grandfather's face over to Nuada for a lingering moment, Grace then slipped them across that cool stone table to Haldir. Nuada wasn't the only man on that terrace with woman problems so far as Grace was concerned.

"Which one?" she answered coldly. Her answer shocked everyone, but it shouldn't have. Grace was ready to start giving just as damn well as she got, and what she'd been getting was pure unrefined fresh from the cow's ass shit.

On each side of that terrace two entirely different looking faces drained of color, Nuada and Haldir both going three shades paler, wondering if Grace was really angry enough to have one or both of the females involved in this horrible situation killed. Watching them turn white was a Kodak moment, and just once Grace wished she had Pam's camcorder, because she sure as hell would have videotaped it.

"Pinilyaer!" Glorfindel hissed under his breath, telling Grace the response of "which one" was certainly not acceptable!

Lord Elrond looked like he just swallowed a lemon, but Lord Niall actually smiled gently at his great-grandchild, obviously pleased with her answer. His voice was like music when he answered. "You are most welcome to kill whatever whore your heart desires child . . . The guardians will gladly retrieve them, if you simply provide instructions."

That fairy was serious as a heart attack, and Grace tried not to gloat, but it was hard. Obviously great-granddaddy wanted baby girl to be happy . . . and Grace never realized having him for a relative came with such open ended perks. Wow.

Barely suppressing a well deserved snicker, Grace watched in complete satisfaction as two very ancient supernatural creatures got the frog eyes. Grace loved frog eyes – there just wasn't any other way to describe that bug eyed look someone gets when their heart got squeezed inside their chest, and she was loving every minute of this, finally giving in and snickering loud enough to make sure both those assholes heard her. Grace was wishing even harder for that camcorder too, because this was some prime material right here. Hell, Grace could have filmed their faces and posted it on YouTube under the heading "Frog Eyes . . . Get your Frog Eyes!"

Looking up into a darkening sky slowly filling with violent clouds, Grace savored the moment, sarcastically drawling out her reply. "Hmmmmm . . . decisions, decisions . . . let me think."

"Grace!" Haldir snapped. "Saes, please . . ."

Slipping rapidly darkening eyes back to the beautiful silver haired marchwarden, Grace looked at him like she was seriously considering repaying Cerylia's spitting favor. "Don't you have something you need to say to me Haldir?" Grace ground out sarcastically. "Something along the lines of Oh Thank God you showed up and saved my dying ass . . . or maybe you should go straight for the begging part where you try to convince me I shouldn't send those guardians to go find the bitch who tongued your brain before she SPIT on me in front of every marchwarden who's ever lived!"

"Spit?" Elrond exclaimed angrily, shifting his own burning silver stare over Haldir before raking Glorfindel and coming back again. Haldir blushed furiously knowing he was in a world of shit when this conversation ended. He'd conveniently omitted that little tidbit of info when relating the events of the past days to Elrond, and judging from the look coming his way, he shouldn't have.

Desperate to make amends, Haldir instantly resorted to groveling. Girls liked that, and Haldir knew they did because he'd been doing plenty of it since Cerylia left that marchwarden hall!

Placing his hand over his heart, Haldir gave Grace the most apologetic expression imaginable. Those sad blue eyes were so soulful a bassett hound would have been proud, and he backed it up with a voice just oozing with gratitude. "Mellon nín, my friend, please accept my sincerest thanks for saving my life and dispatching the warg. I am deeply in your debt, and while there are no words to properly convey my displeasure at your unfortunate encounter with Cerylia, I do hope that you will find it within your heart both to forgive and forget. The girl was distraught and not in control of herself at the time."

Haldir looked all weepy when he finished, and Grace looked at him like she was about to hurl. Obviously, groveling didn't work as well on humans as elves. "Wow." She drawled out in her most condescending tone. "Remind me to bring the tissues next time because that just moved me."

Beside her, Gandalf cleared his throat loudly, not so subtlety reminding Grace to be polite. Unfortunately, being polite was far down on Grace's to do list for that meeting of the minds.

"I am most grateful for your assistance Grace." Haldir told her once again, casting a careful glance toward Lord Elrond. "And I assure you, Cerylia is most apologetic as well."

"Well, you be sure to tell Cerylia if she ever so much as breathes on me again, I intend to pop her head off like a freaking shrimp!" Grace snapped. Her head was hurting just as it always did when she was around Haldir and Nuada at the same time, and she was in a crappy mood anyway. Jerks.

"Erulissë!" Nuada hissed at her. "Never say such things!"

Hearing the slithery sound of her name, Grace felt like she was sitting at a table surrounded by snakes. Vipers would be a more fitting description because there was enough venom floating around that table to drop thousands, and lord knows she was full of it.

"Fuck. You." Grace answered. "Better yet . . . go fuck another dog . . . since you obviously like to fuck dogs."

Grace retched out those words like they made her physically ill. She'd been trying to get hold of that sorry dog humping bastard since she set foot on that balcony, determined she'd help squeeze that sick look Nuada was pulling off so successfully right out of him, but try as she might, Grace absolutely could not get hold of him.

Nuada seemed to feel the same way. He was looking at Grace like he'd love nothing more than choke her mouthy ass, because everybody at that table was staring at him in stunned disbelief. Even Elrond's perfectly controlled expression had folded into shocked highbrow curiosity. Elves were not familiar with werewolves, and they were taking Grace's words literally . . . they knew Nuada was a little different, but a dog? Like hairy butt woof, woof - really?

Flaming as red as Rudolph's nose, Nuada knew what everyone thought of him at that very moment. "She is a werewolf, not a dog!" Nuada snapped back furiously.

"Female dog equals fucking bitch either way – FIDO FUCKER." Grace growled out viciously.

"Pinilyaer!" The golden warrior's warning was louder that time, a tiny little growl of his own sneaking in there, telling Grace he did not appreciate her terminology.

"Oh get over yourself Glorfindel!" Grace drawled back, shifting her gaze from the rapidly darkening sky to the hulking blonde sitting across from her. Suddenly Grace had an idea . . .

Sitting up in her chair, Grace leaned seductively across that table and smoldered a look over Glorfindel hot enough to make every single strand of that wild blonde hair stand on end. "Come to think of it, playing with animals might be fun. . . like you . . . you might look a lion, but you just melted when I ran my hands through that gorgeous blonde hair of yours in my den the other night . . . you're just a little pussy cat waiting to be petted . . . aren't you?" That southern drawl was soft, sultry and smooth as she slid those words out, and Glorfindel damn near fell out of his chair.

If that Fido Fucker comment drew attention, the pussy petting outdid it. Everybody at that table immediately shifted from staring at Nuada to staring at Glorfindel, especially Lord Elrond. "Glorfindel?" he gasped out in surprise, shifting uncertain eyes from the golden warrior to Grace and back again. . Poor Elrond, he was gonna need something much stronger than a cup of tea after all this! Spit – dogs – cats . . . he'd been left out of the entire loop on this strange situation and he was praying to the Valar he didn't miss THAT!

Leaning back in her chair, Grace slid her arms across her chest with a pure shit eating grin on her face, running her eyes over every inch of that now profusely blushing elven warrior across that table from her. Two blushing men down, one to go. This was just fantastic!

"I offered to take that scar on his eyebrow off . . . told him he'd be cuter without it." Grace added sincerely, keeping a careful eye trained around the table for the reactions she was getting.

"Cuter?" Haldir's startled voice blurted out. That marchwarden was stunned, and his face showed it. He'd known Glorfindel for what seemed like forever, but he'd never, ever heard that beastly elf called cute!

"You know . . . attractive . . . desirable." Grace just lingered over that word desirable, her eyes purely pouring lust at Glorfindel, and that poor elf damn near swallowed his own tongue. Watching an uncomfortable blush creep across Haldir's cheeks, Grace simply gloated – three for three – Woo Hoo! Who's your daddy now?

"Stop This!" Elrond demanded, his mouth clamped in a thin line. "Grace, what do you remember of the past days child?"

That was an excellent question, because there was another one of those gigantic holes in her mind that started right after she went to bed at Sookie's and woke up in Rivendell. Frowning desperately, Grace put all kidding aside. "Nightmares."

Coming to his feet at the far end of that table, Niall Brigant was having none of this discussion. He owned no one an explanation of his methods used at Facility Four over the past twenty-four hours and he would offer no apologies. It was time to collect his great-grandchild and leave.

"Nuada, take Grace home." He commanded, and Grace turned to see Nuada unfold himself off that balcony railing and start heading for her again. Unfortunately Glorfindel was on his feet just as quickly, and now Haldir was standing up again. We were officially back to where we started.

Suddenly an all out verbal war ensued in elf speak, with raging voices and vicious pointing, all liberally sprinkled once again with Grace's name. Filled with disillusion, disappointment, and disgust . . . Grace was the epitome of "dissed" as she on that terrace. Her very existence was being violently debated with absolutely no consideration of her opinion or input whatsoever. Lifting her eyes to the sky, she found it as black as her eyes now were, the lightening tracing against the storm clouds exactly matching the flickers running beneath her flesh.

As Savan suspected, that double dose of granddad's essence was having a profound effect on Grace. The sapphire flames that now blended with her own brilliant blue ones were aiding her mind and her powers in unexplainable ways. Not only was her effect on the things around her amplified, combined with the deepened bond their recent trauma brought, her effect on Nuada was entirely different now – as he was about to find out.

Watching Grace begin to rise from her chair with intentions of leaving, Nuada called out to her across the terrace. "Erulissë . . . E r u l i s s e!" he yelled loudly.

The tiny note of desperation in a voice still strained from screaming combined with Gandalf suddenly grabbing her arm to physically restrain her from leaving, reached deep into Grace's very soul and ripped her hidden memories right out – shoving them right under her nose, daring her to forget, forcing her to remember how Nuada screamed her name, how her guardian fought to reach her, how terribly they both suffered.

As the horrible black clouds above her swirled in agitation, those huge broken pieces of puzzle in her mind rotated themselves into place, and as the first rumble of thunder came, that last tiny little piece snapped into place. The picture was complete.

"Nuada . . .blood?" Grace blurted out.

A deafening silence descended down from the heavens, wrapping all of Imladris in its embrace, and on that southern terrace, every eye shifted to Grace. A myriad of emotions was washing over her face, a torrent as powerful as those distant waterfalls, and Nuada suddenly realized that Grace was remembering . . . she was remembering everything!

Instantly, Nuada reached out to Grace with his mind, determined to stop those horrible memories from returning, but unbelievably, the very opposite happened. Nuada did not take control of her thoughts - Grace took hold of Nuada's mind instead - and she siphoned every memory of every second she ever spent at Facility Four right out of his head.

A tornado of information suddenly consumed her mind, rampant realms of information flowing from his mind to hers, silently revealing months of hidden thoughts, combining together into a violent thunderstorm of memories that threatened to consume Grace in one fatal swoop. Her human brain was not prepared for such things, and Grace was quickly reduced to an almost trancelike state, simply staring in shock as thousands of memories came rushing over her at once.

Those nightmares were clear as a bell now . . . the feel of a hand covering her face soft as the brush of a bird feather, beautiful words whispered so warm and gentle against her ear. Strong arms would lift her, carry her to another place, gently place her on that soft white bed. Strange creatures were there, an entire circle of them, powerful creatures who chanted beautiful words in a strange language she could not understand. Lord Niall was always there, along with the man that reminded her of the moon . . . and Nuada . . . strong elegant fingers encircled her wrists, trying desperately to be gentle as he cradled her against his chest and helped her fight that burning fire of blue light that tore her apart.

Grace could remember screaming, remember the warmth of Nuada's body as he held her and tried to comfort her. Suddenly, looking at Nuada across that cold stone expanse, Grace realized why she'd been so drawn to him that night in the warehouse, so desperate for Nuada to come and comfort her. Even then Grace had known what it felt like to be comforted by Nuada's body, because his body had been pressed against hers night after night in the bed of that damn luxury apartment, holding her well before she ever agreed to be held, comforting her against the very torture he helped to inflict on her.

Unfortunately there was more . . . Flesh hitting metal bars, the splatter of blood across a cold tile floor, the slick feel of skin wet with blood . . . every second of what Nuada endured hit Grace at once, and she staggered under the weight of it, Gandalf actually having to catch her as she cried out, grabbing her chest before slumping in the chair.

Alarmed by her condition, Gandalf's face was a mask of concern as he leaned closer. "Child?" Gandalf's gentle voice prodded. "Pinilyaer? Speak . . ."

"Saes Goheno nin, please forgive me . . . Le melon . . . I love you Erulissë and I am so very sorry." Grace whispered under her breath, repeating exactly what was running through Nuada's mind at that very second. "I am yours . . . forever yours Erulissë."

Hearing his own thoughts repeated in Grace's voice shook Nuada to the very pits of his soul, and his skin was completely devoid of color as a bewildered face met Grace's confused stare. Seeing the shock on his face, Grace was suddenly reminded of Elrond's cryptic words of warning months ago, Cairbre's careful offering of protection to her in that elevator . . . offering to hide her, to keep her safe from Lord Niall . . . and safe from Nuada.

Suddenly terrified, Grace snatched herself away from the table, not realizing Gandalf still had hold of her arm. The pain was instant, and when Grace ran her eyes along the flesh of her arms stunned eyes found bruises on her wrists, remainders of firm handprints where Nuada gripped her arm for Savan, the clear puncture mark and deep drawing bruise where someone took blood from her.

Her eyes narrowed and her face creased into the deepest frown imaginable as Grace struggled to comprehend the tangle of thoughts pouring through her mind, to the nightmare she just reassembled as she sat on that balcony, to all those other nightmares she'd been having since all this began. Every black and blue mark on her flesh was undeniable proof. Her nightmares were not some figment of her imagination.

They were not nightmares. They were memories. They were real.

"What the fuck have you been doing to me?"

In the moment those words left her lips, everything Grace believed to be true was gone, and every creature standing on that balcony knew it. Just as her tortured mind had emptied itself to that marchwarden hall, her pain flowed across that balcony like a river, tortured dreams that were now reality crashed over each of them, threatening to sweep them all away. The debate concerning her safety was forgotten, instantly transformed into a battle for both her mental and physical survival, and everyone wondered who would win.

Alone and abandoned, Grace was certainly prepared to battle as she came to stand in the center of that terrace. Betrayed by the very ones she trusted to protect her, there was no hope left to cling to as she faced them all, and her torment was affecting everything around her. The sky was filling with violent thunderheads, the wind was beginning to race, and every plant within a forty foot radius dropped dead. Barely a scorched twig remained.

The object of her immediate anger, Lord Niall looked at his beloved great-grandchild gently, unable to comprehend the tortured emotions she must be feeling. Obviously Grace remembered her time at Facility Four now, and perhaps it was for the best since the transfer was almost complete anyway. The memories seemed cruel, some of them actually quite horrible, but the transfer was necessary and it would be completed. They would tell her the truth.

Passing a firm look to Nuada, Niall ignored the fact that Nuada was obviously struggling to contain his own emotions. They were partners in this, and while Niall knew he didn't deserve that creatures help, Grace would take this best coming from him. "Nuada will explain these things, now calm yourself child!" Niall announced.

Feeling her burning glare as it shifted to him, Nuada answered Niall with violent rage. "I will tell her nothing!" Nuada loved Grace, and his werewolf screwing soul was in enough shit so far as that little human was concerned. He didn't come to Rivendell to explain things that would only make his situation worse. Nauda came to beg forgiveness for his stupidity, then take that woman home and make love to her. That fairy had lost his mind!

"Tell her the truth," Lord Elrond demanded, "or I will!"

"Sedho! Elrond No dhínen!" Nuada answered desperately "Erulissë has suffered enough."

"Speak now Nuada!" Lord Elrond commanded. "The child deserves an explanation!"

"Nuada," Grace begged, her voice shattered as it traced across the open terrace and threw itself against the stones behind him, "what happened in that place . . . what have they been doing to me?"

"Saes, please no Erulissë," Nuada told her firmly, "You do not deserve to hear these things now . . . You are most upset . . . you need to rest, to quiet yourself, to come home and allow me to care for you."

"I asked you a question," Grace growled out in return, "and you're gonna damn well answer it!" Resolute in his refusal, Nuada simply turned away.

Gentle blue eyes darkened in sorrow as Haldir watched, and he came to her side, silently dropping to one knee. If Nuada would not explain, he would, and he hoped Grace could understand his words. "Grace please listen to me very carefully." Haldir said softly, that gentle persuasive voice begging Grace to listen to his words. "When your grandfather passed, his essence remained. The fairies possess the gift of long life, and that gift is being bequeathed to you as his blood descendent and rightful heir. Quiet your mind! This is a gift, Pinilyaer, a wonderful gift!"

Those words hung on the growing breeze as heavy as iron weights, slamming into Nuada like a freight train before crushing Grace's very soul flat under the weight of them. Desperate to free herself from the burden of information being placed on her, Grace refused to believe him. "Liar!" She hissed, drawing a deep rumble of thunder from the storm clouds rapidly gathering over them.

The sympathy on that beautiful elven face scared Grace more than his words when Haldir spoke again. "Mellon nín . . . my friend, elves do not lie."

Taking a frightened step backwards, Grace found herself backed into the iron chest of Glorfindel, and when that giant elf put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, she nearly collapsed. Flipping around, Grace searched his face for anything to tell her this was not really happening, but that sad pitiful stare told her Haldir's words were the absolute truth. Shifting her gaze from Glorfindel to Lord Elrond, Grace prayed he would tell her something different, but he did not.

"Child, calm yourself please, saes." Elrond said softly, his voice strained to the point of breaking. "No one in this place seeks to harm you Grace, and if you will please come and sit with me, I will be most happy to speak with you as to these things myself." Elrond paused, ever the compassionate and understanding healer, desperately wanting to stop her suffering. "Grace, please understand, I have no control over my brother or his decisions." The elf lord knew his words would devastate her, but unfortunately they were true. While he vehemently disagreed with what Niall was doing to Grace, there was little he could do to stop his brother - he simply did not know how to make Grace understand.

Grace's very soul bled as she turned to the powerful elf she had trusted above all others, showing Elrond the bruises that marred her glowing flesh. "No one wants to harm me? Then how do you explain this? How could you let your own brother treat me this way?" Her eyes were filled with disbelief as she stared at Elrond, her face the saddest thing he'd ever seen. "You promised you'd save me from them," Grace reminded him in a tiny broken voice, "and elves cannot lie!"

As the first tears began to fall from her eyes, the first drops of cold rain began to fall, and with every painful sobbed breath she drew, the sky answered, the low thunderous rumblings telling everyone how much she hurt. Pain so overwhelming it was intolerable was bringing tears to Haldir's eyes, Elrond was finding it hard to even breathe, and Glorfindel was nearly trembling from being in such close proximity to Grace, actually being forced to remove his comforting hand from her shoulder.

Grace heard the words of Elrond and Haldir - saw the look on Glorfindel's face - but there was only one creature on that terrace she wanted to hear an explanation from at that moment, the one man she loved. Huge grey eyes full of tears locked with glowing emerald ones as Grace begged Nuada to answer her, praying desperately that this was some sick nightmare and she would wake up at any moment.

"Please Nuada . . . if one word of what you said to me in that horrible place was true, tell me the truth right now . . . please tell me you didn't help do this to me."

Tears of genuine sorrow showed bright in emerald eyes as Nuada forced his mouth to move, overwhelming sadness reflecting through his beautiful accent as it carried across that terrace. His heavy heart knew these words would change his relationship with Grace forever.

"Haldir's words were true Erulissë . The essence of your grandfather Dermot is being passed to you . . . there is a ritual involved, but since you are a human it could not be completely all at once. It has to be done gradually, and it seemed kinder to do it while you were sleeping . . . that is why you have seen it in your dreams . . . Saes Goheno nin, please forgive me Erulissë . . . I swear my words to you were true - I do love you, and I am so very sorry." Nuada's voice was barely above a whisper, repeating his same plea for forgiveness, but he wasn't going to get it.

Grace could only stare at Nuada in stunned disbelief, her heart broken in such a way that it should never heal. She had been betrayed on the most basic level by the one who was sworn to protect her, by the man who was confessing to love her, and the man she loved in return. Lightening struck a nearby tree as Grace clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream she knew was coming, fighting against dizziness and nausea so intense she was positive she would faint. Incandescent light flew from Grace so bright it was burning their eyes, and Glorfindel had to step away for fear of being blinded, unable to support her sagging body as Grace bent double, gasping for air and trying not to vomit.

The rain was coming harder now, and Nuada could see that Grace was about to collapse. He felt as if might collapse himself because across that terrace, Nuada felt everything Grace did – her thoughts were his thoughts, her pain was his pain. Never before had Nuada felt such burning love and compassion as Grace offered him at Facility Four, and never before had he felt pain like he was feeling now.

"Erulissë . . . calm down and listen to me please. The ritual is very nearly complete, and your blood bond with Haldir will be erased . . . you are being set free!" The firmness of his voice was commanding her to listen, but Grace had no intentions of listening. One small tanned hand was held out in his direction, silent southern slang for shut the fuck up, which was exactly what she wanted him to do.

"Shut up! Shut up talking to me . . . all of you just shut the fuck up!" Sobbing in desperation, Grace closed her eyes, slowly shattering the entire railing that ran around the terrace, each section exploding in turn as she ran her mind around it, collapsing it like a huge row of dominos. "This can't possibly be real . . . ya'll are fucking insane! I don't want to live forever the way you do! And nobody is putting some dead fairy's evil shit in me . . !" The true horror of what they were telling her was slowly sinking in, and a giant fissure began to run along the top of that stone table as she spoke, tearing it apart the very same way Grace felt herself breaking apart inside.

Soft black boots made no sound as Nuada eased ever closer to Grace. Those beautiful hands could calm this storm raging inside her if Nuada could just get hold of her, cradle Grace against his chest the way she liked, force her to listen. "Erulissë calm yourself! You will not live forever, but you do not understand what this means for you . . . for us. Please, do not be frightened – I swear on my very life you are safe." Nuada's voice was as soothing as he could make it, desperate as he begged her to listen.

Unfortunately, it only pushed Grace farther into the insanity that was consuming her, and lightening lit the sky as she answered. "Safe?" Grace snapped, shifting her eyes from Nuada to Lord Niall. "I was tortured until I thought I'd die . . . and you . . . you were covered in blood. We suffered!" Grace spit the word suffered at her great-grandfather, watching a troubled frown crease that delicately wrinkled silken flesh on his face. She could vividly remember the pain she endured on that table for all those hours, could literally feel Nuada's body crashing against those metal bars, could feel him hit the floor when he finally collapsed.

"Erulissë that was my fault! Punishment for the way I treated you." Nuada insisted loudly, his voice breaking from the pain of remembering how she suffered because of him, his hand over his heart desperate for her to remember. "Remember the other dreams . . . remember me holding you, comforting you . . . I promise, you can trust me. It will never be that way again."

"You bet your ass it won't be that way again," Grace hissed back at him, throwing fire in every direction along the wet stones as she lashed her fury back at him, "because you won't ever touch me again!" The answered crash of thunder told Nuada she meant her words, and he knew Grace was very close to exploding.

Working in unison against her, Nuada and Haldir eased closer, the two of them assuming a typical flanking assault position soldiers would use on their intended target. If reasoning wouldn't work, they'd resort to military tactics, whatever it took to calm her.

"Laurel Grace you calm yourself and listen to me!" Haldir commanded, his voice changing instantly from soft persuasion to commanding general, demanding to be obeyed. "Nuada and I both care for you deeply, as we all do. Your guardian is worthy of your trust, as am I mellon nín. The marchwarden pledge of protection to you is sacred, and I promise you will never be harmed in that way again now saes! You will calm yourself and listen to us this instant!"

Grace turned to glare at Haldir, her eyes blinking against the now pouring rain, her hands trying to stifle the sobs that were in danger of becoming screams. "You're both crazy as hell," Grace gasped back at him, "and I must do nothing but get away from you psycho bastards! Now you can take your friendship," Grace paused as she reached for that pendant around her neck, "and you can take this pendant," she snatched it off her neck, "and you can shove them both up your ass." Grace hurled that pendant across that terrace, using her mind to help it along, and the thunder that rolled when it smacked into Haldir's leather vest was loud enough to rock all of Imladris.

Everyone from that table was standing now, and they were carefully working themselves into a semi-circle, slowly corralling Grace toward the edge of that balcony, desperate to contain her. Nuada and Haldir were in the center, but Glorfindel was the closest, and Grace was keeping a careful watch on that warrior as she continued to ease herself backwards.

Reaching his hands out to her, Nuada commanded Grace to relent, the gentleness evaporating from his voice as he spoke. "Goheno nin Erulissë . . . forgive me for the pain you suffered, but listen to me now! On my life no harm shall ever come to you again. Now, stop this nonsense at once! I love you, and you are going to take my hand and come home with me this instant!" Nuada's patience was beginning to fade. That creature did not beg, nor did he plead with anyone for anything, and this was rapidly getting out of control. Grace belonged to him, and he intended that she would return home with him, like it or not.

Pure hatred poured from her just like the rain that was soaking her flaming skin, and Grace found herself determined to hurt Nuada the same way he was hurting her. "I will never forgive you! You are a cheat and a liar who wouldn't know what love was if it walked up and slapped you in the face." Grace growled out, her trembling fingers finding their way to the beautiful emerald earrings in her ears. Grace hadn't taken them off since the day he gave them to her, but they were certainly coming off now.

Nuada's heart literally broke as he watched Grace rip them from her ears. "Fuck . . ." Grace hissed as she threw the first one at him, "You," she finished, landing that second one right in his face.

Reeling with pain, Grace was shaking so hard she could barely stand, and she silently prayed for someone, anyone to wake her from this sick dream. In the firm grip of a violent panic attack, Grace fought back sobs and struggled for air, and everyone on that terrace wondered if how long she could stay on her feet. Glorfindel and Lord Elrond were both desperate to reach her, but those burning blue flames held everyone at bay. No one could touch her.

Lord Niall frowned as deeply as he ever had, looking at Grace sympathetically as he himself stepped closer. The rain was pouring down on all of them, yet he was perfectly dry, not one drop touching him as he spoke. "My child, I am so sorry you feel this way, but there is much you do not understand." He paused, his eyes shining with tears, his voice low and soothing as he tried to reason with her.

"Please know that I love you. I want you to live, to be happy . . . but you are too valuable, too special that I could allow your death." He paused, looking at her sadly. "We all care very deeply for you Grace . . . Nuada cares very deeply for you . . . and we will do what is best for you. The ritual will be completed, and it will be by force if necessary."

Force.

For the longest time Grace stood there frozen, completely numbed by the shock of his words, and everything stopped. There was no thunder, no lightening, and not even one raindrop fell. For the second time, Grace found herself stuck in this stunningly beautiful place, trapped in an unrelenting hell that refused to release her, and she was out of room and out of options. Her feet were right at the edge of those smooth rain slicked stones, the terrace enclosure was destroyed, and there was nothing behind her but blackness and a sixty foot drop to nowhere.

Frowning desperately, Lord Niall looked to Nuada, then to the two silent guardians still standing on the far side of that balcony. "Get my great-grandchild and take her home." He commanded.

Politeness and begging evaporated as Nuada came across that terrace, and even though Grace was trying with all her might to get hold of a mental grip on him, she absolutely could not. Nuada was deflecting her grasp as easily as if he were walking through a gentle breeze, and Grace realized Nuada was about to grab her and physically drag her off that terrace.

Grey eyes ringed with sapphire flames looked almost animalistic as they tore across him, tearing his very soul to shreds with the pure hate they carried. "If you ever touch me again, I'll kill you." Grace told him softly, venom wrapping each word in its arms as they floated across those cold wet stones, crushing his heart as the landed.

"Never think that you could harm me Erulissë." Nuada warned her firmly. "Our auras are linked, and unlike that blood bond, our link can never be broken. You will forever belong to me."

"I belong to no one." Grace seethed in return, her rage flinging her voice to the heavens, forcing the skies to open at her command. The deluge of rain represented her tears, the violent roll of thunder the beat of her broken heart, the blinding flash of lightening the pain that burned her.

As the curtain of rain descended, Nuada lunged for Grace only to be met mid-air by Glorfindel. The golden warrior would defend the human, the elf would stop them from taking Grace again. The violent thunderstorm consumed Imladris as everyone on that terrace fell on one another, and Grace threw everything she had at all of them. That massive courtyard table was no more than dust in the wind, and she sent Haldir into those two guardians hard enough to break bones.

Untouched and unmoved, Lord Niall walked right through it all to calmly face his great-granddaughter. "You will come with me now child!" He commanded her, the outstretched hand demanding she take it.

"I hate you." Grace told him in return, her eyes leaving no doubt her words were sincere.

"There are many things you simply do not understand child, and this is not your decision to make." Niall told her firmly. "Now you will return to the earth realm with Nuada, and you will calm yourself this instant! I will gladly speak to you, but never under these conditions."

The Fairy Lord stepped closer, gentle hands reaching for her, and without realizing what she was doing, Grace instinctively stepped backwards . . . falling off the terrace and disappearing into the darkness below.


	38. Redneck Races

Chapter 38 - Redneck Races

Grace, fairies and heights simply did not mix . . . and while the breathtakingly beautiful fairies she'd always seen in fairy tales books had magnificent – and fully functional - wings, obviously she was absent the day they handed the damn things out. Once again did Grace find her unfortunate mortal and non-flying ass indeed flying . . . or falling as it were . . . unceremoniously nudged right off the terrace of Imladris by the great-grandfather intent on controlling her.

A non-ending stream of vile filth and profanities flowed from her lips during her descent, a tirade that encompassed multiple forms of each and every one of the seven dirty words drowned out by the nearly hurricane force storm she'd unleashed against Imladris. Soaked, scared and genuinely pissed off, Grace had no idea what she'd find at the bottom, and it came as little surprise when she found herself slopped into the center of a gigantic swath of greenery that must have been at least twenty feet tall.

Why? Why did she continually find herself assaulted by the plant life of Rivendell? Was it some secret revenge for something she did in a previous life?

Regardless of her unusual relationship with the landscaping, Grace emerged largely unscathed. Those flickering blue fairy flames might not provide wings, but they did provide enough protection to break her fall, slowly sinking her into an entirely new situation, one that could only described as surreal. The expression out of the frying pan and into the fire was a common one, and the very one that was at that particular moment asserting itself within her mind.

Shocked, shivering and swearing she'd buy stock in RoundUp if she survived, Grace found that the possibility of being captured on that terrace within Nuada's firm, albeit warm and at most times quite enjoyable grasp had now been replaced by complete darkness surrounded by gigantic fronds performing a torturous dance driven by torrential rains and violent winds. Translation? Instead of being squeezed by the man she loved, Grace was now encased in some strange subtropical tomb while in danger of being beat to death by a fucking fern! Well monkey shit!

The miserable plants instantly wilted as her feet sank against that warm wet soil, but Grace folded right along with the greenery around her when two strong arms encased her from behind, a firm hand clamping over her mouth. Terrified, Grace was positive Nuada or Niall had hold of her, but faster than she could think to defend herself, those firm hands turned her and she was staring into Cairbre's face. Silver strands of soaked starlight thrown across a rain laden face told Grace she was safe, and she did not scream when his hand instantly shifted from her mouth to her hand, slipping that magical golden ring onto her thumb before Grace could even breathe.

Bless Gandalf's well intentioned heart, that man was a magical master, and he'd outdone himself with that ring. Capable of gut wrenching responses when Grace put it on in the earth realm, given the added oomph of the elven realm, that ring nearly wrenched Nuada's brain clear out of his head. Poor Glorfindel didn't know what was happening . . . one minute, he was raring back to punch that man in the face, and the next, that man was face down on the floor . . . and he didn't even hit him! What the hell?

Haldir of Lórien fared no better. Extricating himself from that heap of tangled guardian limbs, he got up, and he went back down, his very blood freezing in his veins. Chilled to the bone from the inside out, that marchwarden could do little outside of lay on those cool wet stones and tremble. The effects were far reaching, and in Bon Temps Sookie Stackhouse went down for the count too, sliding unceremoniously to the floor right in the middle of Merlotte's, beer, fried food and all. While the beautiful blonde didn't know what was happening, her very soul went cold, and as the raging storm around Imladris began to instantly fade, every creature on that terrace became convinced Grace was dead.

Grace wasn't dead – she was in perfect health, albeit extremely angry, wet and filthy – and before the last drops of rain hit the ground, Cairbre had her in his arms, instantly returning Grace to that little white house in Shreveport, Louisiana. "We have little time. Hurry!" he told her in a low, gentle voice.

The moisture running from her rain soaked clothes against the cold air of indoor air conditioning in conjunction with the emotional trauma she just suffered left Grace brain dead, and she just stood there staring at Cairbre like he was speaking in tongues, desperately trying to figure out just what the hell he wanted her to hurry up and do exactly. His voice was immediately joined by a second one, the sound drawing her attention to the doorway of her den and sucking the strength from her already trembling knees when she found the form of a tall man with long blond hair filling it.

The rivers of water running down her legs came extremely close to being joined by some new ones, Grace positive it was Nuada come to collect her. Thank heavens it wasn't, but Logan wasn't in a very understanding mood himself. "Listen to me Grace, there's no time so here's what you're going to do," the insistent vampire told her firmly. "We've already packed some of your things in your suitcases. Whatever else you need, just buy it."

Logan took hold of Grace even as he began to speak, literally yanking her through the house, and shoving her toward the back door. The vampire was completely oblivious to her wet clothes, or the fact that Grace was leaving a trail of mud and little green leaves behind them. "Here!" he told her firmly, shoving a huge wad of money at her and several credit cards. "They're mine and they can't be traced back to you. You can't possibly spend what's in those accounts, and if you do, I'll just deposit more."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Grace mumbled, still in a complete state of shock. "Why do I need this stuff? Where am I going? I'm not going anywhere!"

"Oh yes you are!" Caribre told her firmly. "You are leaving this place! You are going to get away from these elves and fairies that think they own you, and you are not going to let them force you into anything!" Grace raked her very own frog eyed stare over that retired marchwarden like he was completely insane – Cairbre was an elf – and how the hell did he know about her being forced into doing things?

Ignoring her stunned expression, the odd duo concentrated on the wet humans lack of movement instead, both men taking hold of her and wresting a violently resisting Grace out the back door, dragging her toward the glistening form of a low black sportscar shining under the yard light.

"Has everybody in the entire universe lost their mind tonight?" Grace shrieked in stunned confusion, immediately digging her bare feet into that concrete, not like it helped any. That huge vampire and powerful marchwarden could have used her for an egg toss if they wanted!

"Shut up and get your ass in!" Logan hissed, snatching open the door of Nuada's Jaguar. "Everybody knows your truck, but this car is perfect. You drive the limit, you don't get stopped and you haul ass away from here till some of this settles!"

As before, the entire time Logan was talking, he was moving, and at that very moment Logan was desperately trying to shove Grace into that car. Unfortunately, she was not cooperating, and with as many legs and arms as he had, it was an all out wrestling match between one blond vampire and one pissed off human there for a while. Finally, Grace just grabbed hold of him with her mind and froze that vampire in place.

"Grace you listen to me!" Cairbre said firmly, only to find his own lips frozen as well.

"Back off, both of you!" she hissed. Clinging to the car door of that Jaguar, Grace was fighting for sanity in a completely insane situation. She'd suffered through a few too many changes of venue over the past two days to take yet another one in stride, and her mind was more than overwhelmed by everything suddenly being thrown at her.

Taking a few deep breaths, she finally relented and unlocked them from her grasp, but her warning glare left little doubt if they pushed her any farther, they'd become part of that concrete slab they were standing on. "Logan, talk and choose your words carefully," Grace said.

"Do you trust Nuada?" Logan answered instantly, his question being backed up by a piercing stare from Cairbre.

It was the moment of truth, a turning point in her life, a crossroads on the way to eternity . . . Grace had to choose . . . she was either with Nuada, or she was against him. Her entire existence ground to a halt as Grace fought to find an answer. She'd blindly trusted Nuada for all these months, had put her trust in him from the very first moment she laid eyes on that man on the balcony of Imladris, yet he'd been willing to throw her love away for a piece of prostitute ass, he hadn't come to her when she called out for him, had only moments before stood in her face and admitted how he'd secretly helped Lord Niall sneak her away and do terrible things to her in her sleep. Was that the man she trusted? Was that the creature she loved?

"If you trust him, then stay . . . but if you don't, you need to leave this place," Logan told her gently. "Grace . . . you have to decide right now."

It was the hardest question she'd ever faced, her expression creased into a terrible frown, her entire body shaking so hard she could barely stand as she recalled the sight of him with that whore in Crash Mansion, the sound of his voice as he came stalking across that terrace after her . . .

"I don't think so," she finally managed to murmur in reply, choking back the sob she knew was going to claim her in a moment.

"Then you need to get in," Logan told her firmly.

Grace stared at him blindly for a moment, the first tear seeping down her face as she turned to look at the little white house she had called home for the past several months . . . home . . . her home, the very house Nuada himself chose for her, helped her move into, came and visited her at. The same home he'd left her begging in the kitchen of . . . begging him not to abandon her.

Completely numb, Grace slid into the driver's seat, honestly not caring what happened from this point forward. What difference did it make where she went, or what happened to her, if the man she loved did not love her in return? What point was there to anything if there was no one to share it with? Not only had her previous life been wrenched away from her, but now her new life was destroyed as well. She'd lost everything – again.

Heartbroken, she sat in silence, staring up at Logan, some tiny part of a frozen brain recording his words so they could be played back at another time. "The map on the passenger seat is outlined with your route. Just get on the interstate and head west. Once you calm down and get some distance on you, stop somewhere and read over it."

Seeing the tears slipping down her face, Logan stopped talking. Crouching beside the car, he got a strange expression on his face and pulled Grace into his arms, hugging her gently. "I care about you more than you know Grace . . . if I didn't, I wouldn't involve myself with any of this, but the things happening here are just not right. Now that house belongs to a friend of mine, and not one soul knows about it but the three of us - not even Eric. You will be perfectly safe there for so long as you want to be. Take your time, sort these things out, decide where you go from here. Now please, you have to leave."

Grace nodded, seeing that Cairbre was coming around the car to join them, having just slammed the trunk after throwing her suitcases in. Knowing time was slipping away, Logan kept up with his instructions. "Your purse is right there, and your laptop is in the trunk. My business email is on those papers. It can't be checked by anyone but me – use it - but toss your phone before you get too far. They'll trace it." Thinking about that, Logan grabbed his and threw it into the floorboard. "Only for emergencies until you can buy a disposable one," he cautioned her.

"Nuada will come after ya'll . . . Lord Niall too," Grace told them, her voice breaking.

"Let that damn fairy lord come," Logan told her firmly. "I don't care. You deserve better than this."

Pushing past Logan, Cairbre leaned into the car, giving her an impromptu hug, actual tears shining in his eyes, and Grace hugged him desperately. "Thank you," Grace managed to choke out through her tears.

"Go," Logan insisted, pulling Cairbre back and closing the Jaguar door. "Don't look back, just go."

Darkness swallowed her when the car door closed, Grace feeling like she'd just been submerged in her own private hell. She was trapped and alone, stifled by the horrible emotions she'd felt on top of that terrace. Her mind struggled, trying to decide if she should be running away from Nuada, or running to Nuada . . . what part did that man actually play in everything that was done to her? How her great-grandfather ever be so cruel?

Struggling for breath, she finally slipped the car into gear, her heart pounding so loud she could literally hear it as the Jaguar slowly began to move backwards. Grace was positive Nuada was going to appear in the glow of those taillights at any moment and snatch her out of that car, and she couldn't imagine what he'd do to her after that. Fortunately he did not, and survival instincts began to take over. Driving through Shreveport, Grace eased from red light to red light, shaking so bad she could hardly hold the wheel. What on earth was she doing? What else could she do? What did Lord Niall intend to do to her if he did get hold of her again? Could she trust Nuada?

"Sookie!" her mind began to scream over and over again. How on earth could she possibly leave her cousin this way? Finding herself facing the ramp onto the interstate, Grace had a choice to make, west to oblivion or east to her cousin. Knowing that ring hid her, she decided to chance it. According to that glowing blue LED display, it was around nine o'clock at night, and hopefully Sookie was working and not with Eric.

Sprawled out in a chair in Sam's office with a cold wet rag over her face, Sookie Stackhouse had never been so happy to hear someone's voice in all her life when she answered that cell phone. "Grace? My god, I thought you were dead! Where the hell are you? Where have you been? What is . . ."

Taking a deep breath, Grace said something to Sookie Stackhouse so very many people had wanted to for so very long. "Sookie, shut the fuck up!"

Sookie shut up. Haldir of Lórien wasn't the only one who'd suffered through that torment at Facility Four with Grace. Sookie spent every hour convinced she'd die if one more scream from her cousin's mouth came echoing through her mind, and if she hadn't been standing in Merlotte's holding onto that huge wooden bar, she'd have sworn she was falling to her death less than hour ago. Sam was convinced Sookie was dying when his waitress hit the floor about two minutes later, right along with Haldir, Nuada and a huge tray of obnoxious fried food. Sookie knew right then that magical ring had once again found its way to the thumb of her cousin, and combined with everything else, it meant a world of shit happened to Grace since she disappeared from that spare bedroom.

"Where are you, and who's with you?" Grace demanded in a hushed voice, like it made any difference whatsoever since she was alone and driving down the road in a car.

"I'm driving home from work, feeling like my head is going to explode! What the hell is happening Grace? Where have you been? And where the hell is Nuada? Are ya'll together?" Sookie answered in a real quiet tone, mimicking her cousin's actions.

"No," Grace managed through a choked sob. "Sookie, listen to me . . .I've got to leave for a while, but I'm not going anywhere without seeing you first. If Eric or Nuada show up before I get to your house you call me – you warn me – promise you will!" The pure terror in her voice told Sookie that her cousin was not kidding, and she felt her heart go numb. Last she heard Niall took Nuada and disappeared, and the only way Grace got that ring was if she saw Haldir . . . this was very, very bad.

"Ok Grace, I promise. I'll be on the front porch when you get here," she answered, her own voice trembling now. No sooner had Sookie snapped that phone shut, than it rang again, this time Eric Northman was calling.

"Hello Lover." He oozed into the phone, his voice perfectly calm, belying nothing.

"Hey Eric." Sookie said uncertainly, trying to remain calm as she drove herself home. "Where are you?"

"I'm at work," he lied, passing Nuada a smug look over the console of that Corvette . . . the very Corvette barreling toward Bon Temps at over a hundred miles an hour. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," Sookie lied in return. "I've just got a headache. Thought I'd go home and lay down for a while."

"Oh . . . sorry to hear about that," Eric said smoothly, mouthing the word "home" to Nuada. "I'll be sure to come check on you a little later . . . you sure everything is ok?"

"Oh I'm fine. Just a little headache, that's all. Guess it's just the stress of Grace being gone that's getting to me," Sookie answered.

"Grace . . ." Eric noted casually. "Have you heard from your cousin tonight?"

"No . . . have you heard from Nuada?"

"Sure haven't."

"Hmmm . . . oh well, I'm sure they're both fine," Sookie said vaguely. "Just call me later . . . love you."

"Love you," Eric replied, snapping the phone shut. "She's meeting Grace at her house," he told Nuada firmly.

Nuada just shook his head in return . . . and people thought he was a liar! Ha! That was a textbook case of how to lie to your fiancée right there if he'd ever seen one . . . and he didn't give a rat's ass if it helped him get Grace back either!

Less than fifteen minutes later, black paint glistened in the glow of a security light as Grace came easing up in front of the huge old white farmhouse where Sookie Stackhouse lived, the terrified girl behind the wheel praying for all she was worth she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life. Not understanding what on earth was happening, Sookie slipped down the front steps to meet her, hands immediately finding their way to her hips as she stared at the strange sight of her cousin's pale face framed inside Nuada's car. Instantly, she was inside, the color draining from her face. Her cousin looked like she'd been mud wrestling with an alligator and an oak tree . . . and lost. Her skin was scraped raw from the sharp edges of those plant branches, tiny smears of blood mixing with the mud and debris covering her.

"What is this crap?" Sookie snapped in disbelief, picking a hunk of leaves from her hair. "What the hell has happened to you? Laurel Grace, tell me right now what is going on. I just had to lie to Eric about what I was doing! Where is your truck? Why are you in Nuada's car?"

Already stretched far beyond her mental limits, the simple mention of Eric's name was enough to throw Grace right over the precipice of sanity she'd been clinging to so desperately . . . if that vampire was lurking around, be assured, Nuada was with him! Her face went pale as chalk, her entire body shaking so hard her legs were jerking. She was hysterical nearly to the point of screaming. "Eric called you? What did you tell him? Is Nuada with him?"

"Calm down! Yes Eric called . . . he's at work, and he said he hadn't seen Nuada. Grace . . . sweetie, please tell me what's wrong? Why are you scared of Eric and Nuada . . . and just where you think you are going? Who took you out of my house, and where on earth have you been?" Sookie was talking and looking, grabbing hold of her hand to verify indeed that the cursed little gold ring was indeed on her finger – it was.

 _Too bad that little gold ring was the only thing that was where Sookie suspected it of being. Unbeknownst to those two girls, a sparkling red Corvette containing both Eric Northman and Amarande Nuada was now barreling toward Bon Temps on an intercept course with those two cousins._

Ok, that was way too many questions at one time, but the comment that Eric was at work and had not seen Nuada - as incorrect as it was - seemed to calm Grace somewhat, and she fought to regain her composure. Struggling to make her mind focus, she ignored the questions, instead snatching her pocket book from the floorboard and flipping on the overhead light. "Listen Sook, take this . . ." she told her, digging out her checkbook and debit card, "I've got money . . . promise me you'll buy stuff for the wedding . . ." she stopped, too choked to make her mouth form the words, finally forcing the sobs back so she could finish. "I don't know if I'll be back, but promise you'll at least think of me."

 _Oh . . . Grace was being thought about alright . . . Eric and Nuada were both thinking about what they were going to do to that impossible little human wretch when they drug her out of that freaking car in a minute. Running away again, huh? They didn't think so!_

Sookie Stackhouse completely broke down into her own river of tears when Grace told her that, and she grabbed hold of her cousin across that console. "I am never getting married without you here, now Grace you stop this right now! I am not taking this checkbook or this money! I don't know what you think is happening here, but I know for a fact Eric Northman would never hurt one hair on your head, and I don't believe Nuada would either. Now you stop this ridiculous nonsense and you get out of this car and you come inside. You will spend the night here with me, and we will sort all of this out right now!"

"I can't, Sook," Grace sobbed out. "Niall took me away from here once, and he'll do it again! I'm sure Eric will tell you what he can. I've really got to go now." Grace shoved the checkbook and card at Sookie again. Her tear filled eyes were begging, and Sookie finally nodded her agreement, even though she knew she'd never spend one cent of Grace's money.

"Lord Niall took me . . . Nuada . . . he . . . he . . . Oh god, Sookie!" Grace sobbed, unable to contain her tears any longer. Thank heavens that little gold ring was on her finger, because if the thoughts pouring through Grace had seeped into her cousin's mind at that moment, it would've fried every brain cell that poor girl had.

"Grace, calm down and talk to me. Where did Niall take you? What happened . . . how did you get that ring on your finger?" Sookie demanded, terrified now that she could see firsthand the condition her cousin was in.

Grace just stared at her in complete shock, crying, unable to even talk.

"Either you take that damn ring off so I can feel you, or you open your damn mouth and start talking!" Sookie repeated loudly, leaning across the console and getting right in her face. It made little difference. Grace was in some state of mild shock, so Sookie tried a more gentle approach. Grace usually liked that. "Listen sweetie . . . why don't we go inside . . . I'll fix you something to drink . . . have you eaten? Come on, we'll go talk about this nice and calm like."

Calm her ass. "I can't talk about it, Sookie," Grace answered, making sure the doors were locked. "I just have to get away from here for a while . . . Nuada's going to come after me, I just know it and Niall, he's gonna take me back there . . . and I fell . . . and that bush . . ." Grace was rambling, and she couldn't help it. Her mind was a scrambled mess, and she was so scared she could hardly sit in that car seat, much less talk at the same time. Through it all, Grace refused to tell her cousin what their great-grandfather was doing to her . . . Sookie was a lot more fragile - she'd crack, freak out and go nuts and that was the last thing Grace needed right then. All she needed was to know Sookie was safe, and Grace was positive Eric would keep her that way.

"Is this all about that werewolf thing in Los Angeles?" Sookie asked, knowing full well it wasn't. "Where did they take you . . . what did Lord Niall do to you? Did he do something to make you look this way? Or was it Haldir again? How did you get hold of that ring?"

"Niall took me . . . I ended up in Rivendell . . . I fell off the terrace," Grace managed to mumble, anxiously checking her mirrors. "Eric can protect you Sookie, you're safe, but I'm not . . . they're coming after me, I know it."

"Rivendell . . . fell of the terrace? Jesus Christ Grace! Just what in the world did Nuada do? Where is that sorry blond haired bastard?" Sookie snarled, suddenly furious.

 _That sorry blond haired bastard was with his best friend, at that very moment crawling out of the Corvette now parked and idling far down at the end of the drive leading to Sookie's house, and even as those two cousins were sitting there talking, two very determined blond haired men were silently slipping their way down that lane . . ._

Grace said nothing, just the mention of Nuada's name enough to reduce her to heart wrenching sobs yet again.

Frowning desperately, Sookie wondered what on earth she could do to make this situation better, and keep her cousin from leaving. "Grace, you cannot leave this place again. You have already run away from Nuada . . . hid in that damn hotel downtown. He is going to choke you stiff if you do this again! Don't you know that?"

 _"Yes Grace, listen to your cousin. . . I will not choke you stiff, but I will certainly make you regret this!" Nuada added silently, sliding through the darkness, hearing every single word as he eased ever closer between those trees until he was within eyesight of that car._

"I don't care!" Grace snapped suddenly, "This is all his fucking fault! Nuada is a god damned liar and he fucked that whore and left me alone! He . . . He . . . He . . ." she collapsed into more tears, unable to even finish her sentence and everyone listening - including Nuada - felt terrible. Poor girl.

"And if you leave, just where do you think you are going? And just what am I supposed to tell them if they ask me if I saw you?" Sookie finally asked, positive it wouldn't be long before Eric or Nuada were in her face.

 _"Yes Grace . . . pray tell . . . where do you think you are going . . . and what is Sookie supposed to lie and say to the two men now creeping up behind that car ya'll are sitting in, crying and talking? Hmmmmm?"_

Grace gave her the most pitiful look she'd ever seen, the thought of what Nuada had done unbearable. Fighting for control, Grace forced herself to speak as she pressed her truck keys into Sookie's shaking hand. "Tell Eric I'm really sorry . . . I appreciate everything he's done for me, and tell Nuada . . . tell Nuada . . . just give him these."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Sookie couldn't help that tiny little smile. "I can't believe you're taking his new Jaguar. Eric would die if I stole that Corvette out from under him."

 _"No Sookie . . . I would not die, but you might," Eric thought to himself, clearly hearing every word being spoken inside that damn car as he crouched behind it, silently slipping around until he was directly underneath the driver side window._

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Grace managed a tiny grin herself. "Nuada told me to drive it whenever I wanted."

 _"Nuada did not tell you to steal my new car and run away!" Nuada added viciously to himself, silently seething as he too crouched in the shadows, slipping toward the passenger side of that damn car._

Shaking her head, Sookie gave a strange little snicker. "I don't think this is what he had in mind sweetie."

 _"No Sookie . . . you are absolutely correct . . . that is not what I meant at all," Nuada mentally confirmed._

"Nuada?" Sookie said suddenly, hearing his voice plain as day in her mind.

"What about Nuada?" Grace snapped, looking around but seeing nothing. Quickly she flipped off the over head light, completely unaware they were now being stalked by two extremely powerful supernatural creature who were at that very moment less than five feet away from that car.

In that instant, Nuada's face popped up in that passenger window. "He's here!" Grace shrieked, her hand clamping across her heart just as the words crossed her lips, blue flames flashing across her skin just at the very sight of him . . . and it was horrifying image that truly struck fear in the very pits of Grace's soul . . . that porcelain skin streaked with blood, soaking wet strands of hair stuck to his flesh, those eyes purely burning with fire even in the darkness.

Sookie let out her own panicked cry at that very same moment, pointing at Grace's window, and when Grace turned her head around, she jerked back with a squeal, coming extremely close to pissing her pants for real that time. Eric Northman's fang filled face was pressed to that glass like a bug on a windshield. There was entirely too much screaming and squealing taking place in the tiny interior of that car, and two hysterical cousins suddenly found themselves clinging to one another over the console, faced with two highly irate men. Thank god those doors were locked!

"Open it!" Nuada hissed.

Grace wouldn't have opened that door if the Publisher's Clearing House Prize Patrol had been on the other side, and quite frankly, judging from the expression on that Nuada's face, neither would Sookie Stackhouse. Hell no, that door was staying closed.

Enraged by their lack of response, Eric started beating on the top of the car, leaving little dents when he did. "Open the fucking door Sookie . . . Open it Grace, or I'm gonna rip the thing off the damn hinges!"

"What the fuck are you doing?" Nuada growled across the car roof . . . this was his brand new hundred thousand dollar car that damn vampire was pounding on here!

"Sorry," Eric mouthed back, getting the "you are an idiot" stare in return.

"Holy shit, he's gonna kill you," Sookie whispered, shaking like a leaf as she crouched down in that passenger seat.

"I am not going to kill anyone," Nuada replied, instantly reappearing in that window, hearing every whispered word perfectly. "I simply want Erulissë to get out of the car so I can speak with her." He was heading around that Jaguar as he was talking, while Eric was working his way around back, effectively boxing them in so she could not drive away.

Slamming his palms down on that hood with a loud bang, Nuada leaned down to glare at Grace across the gleaming black expanse. "Get out," he demanded harshly. "Now."

A pale terrified face stared back at him from the darkness, Grace wondering if her heart would explode, or if she would indeed piss her pants before this was over. She was once again trapped, positive that blond haired mercenary intended her nothing pleasant should he put his hands on her.

"No," she whispered under her breath.

Sookie's head snapped in her direction. Did Grace have a secret death wish she wasn't aware of? "Are you insane? For god's sake Grace . . . get out and talk to him . . . you will never win this, and I don't think you want to make him any madder."

"Listen to your cousin, Erulissë," Nuada agreed, slowly stalking his way around to her door, running a threatening hand along that car hood as he did. "Get out and talk to me."

Venom oozed from every word, his body language as threatening as anything Grace had ever seen. Better chance of her petting a cobra. Thanks, but no thanks.

"No," Grace murmured again, growing angrier by the second, blue flickers running wild over her flesh now.

"Open the door, Grace!" Eric demanded loudly from the back of the car, leaning on the trunk and staring at both of them through the back glass. "You will never leave this yard. Believe it."

Nuada had now planted himself beside that damn driver door, hands on the roof, leaning down to look directly at Grace through that glass. She could see every drop of rain still clinging in his hair, every bead of sweat glistening on his brow, every tiny speck of blood clinging to his flesh. His nose was flaring slightly when he breathed he was so angry, his face creased into a terrible frown, his eyes spitting venom as he stared at her.

"Open the door, Erulissë," he said one last time. "Or I will beat the fucking windows out and drag you from this god damned car."

Suddenly Grace found herself back at the crossroads of life she'd visited some thirty minutes past. To trust Nuada, or not to trust Nuada . . . that was the question. Frantically, she searched his face for any sign of remorse, any sliver of sympathy or understanding, any tiny little speck of love, any tiny glimmer of anything she could cling to that would save her from this hell she was being swallowed by. She found nothing . . . nothing but anger and temper . . . nothing but a man with blond hair and pointed ears demanding Grace submit herself to his will.

Turning away from his stare, Grace closed her eyes for a moment, praying for sanity and sanctity as she debated her unenviable options. Suddenly she turned in that drivers seat and threw herself against that window, slamming her fists against it as she screamed right in Nuada's face. "No!"

It was so loud and so sudden, it took him completely by surprise, shocking him, causing him to step back and blink for a moment. "I don't fucking belong to you, and I'm never getting out of this god damned car!" she bellowed in sheer rage, jerking that Jag in gear and ripping it backwards simultaneously.

Poor Sookie . . .she was trapped inside that car. Poor Eric . . . he was trapped clinging to the trunk of that car . . . but not for long! Grace wheeled that car around in that yard like she was in the Indy 500, slinging Eric off that slick surface and rolling him across the lawn like a croquet ball. Nuada went rushing for the door as Grace snatched it into drive, and his fist barely missed the glass, slamming into the rear roof support instead, putting a huge dent in the side of it as Grace went tearing down that gravel drive.

On his feet instantly, Eric was cussing and running, tearing down the driveway for that red Corvette like a man possessed. "God . . . damned . . . pregnant . . . possum . . . ass . . . little . . . irritating . . . bitch . . . am . . . going . . . to . . .kill . . . her . . . myself!"

Oh, this was all out war now . . . and it was personal! That vampire fully intending to run her insolent little ass down and drag her from that freaking car. If Nuada wouldn't do it, but god he sure as shit would! Just watch and learn, elf boy!

Nuada was already in the car when Eric got there, that vampire slinging that Corvette around in a move straight out of the movies and tearing ass off behind her. It was a true redneck road race, and may the best man - or woman - win.

Far ahead of them Grace was heading for the interstate, and Jaguar could have put her in a commercial because Grace was wringing everything out of that new XKR Coupe it had to offer and more. Whatever Nuada paid for that beautiful black thing, Grace was making damn sure somebody got their money's worth out of it. That sequential shifter was in Sport Manual mode, and Grace was ripping those gears like Jeff Gordon, completely oblivious to the now hysterical blonde blabbering like a drunk monkey in the passenger seat.

"Oh my god, you hurt Eric, I just know it . . .I ran over a vampire once, it was horrible . . . oh my god!" Sookie was completely gone at this point, mentally fried - not that it took a whole lot to accomplish that - and Grace couldn't help but pass her an irritated glance.

"I didn't fucking run over him and he's dead already Sookie!" Grace finally screeched. "And he must not be hurt too bad, because he's behind us!"

Indeed, they were very far in the distance, but Grace had no doubt that set of Xenon headlights now shining through the darkness behind them belonged to Eric Northman and one shiny red Corvette. Panicking, and flatly refusing to draw her cousin any farther into this mess, Grace locked the brakes on that Jaguar, hurling it onto the shoulder.

"Get out!" she ordered Sookie forcefully.

Sookie didn't argue. She loved Grace with all her heart, but this was getting a little too real for her taste. Flinging herself across the console, Sookie hugged her desperately, then threw open the passenger door and climbed out. Highway grass brushed against her knees as she turning away from the choking dust. Grace had floored that powerful Jaguar, and the sound of a transmission in pain was now screaming back across that pavement. Turning in the opposite direction, Sookie could see Eric's headlights growing ever brighter as they grew closer and closer, the roar of that gigantic engine climbing up the road ahead of him as he blasted that Corvette toward Shreveport for all it was worth. Two cars on an intercept course, and she was smack dab in the middle.

Stunned and shaking, Sookie walked out in the very center of that road. Eric would have to stop to keep from hitting her . . . she'd hold them off of her cousin as long as she could . . . hopefully keep Grace from wrecking and killing herself trying to get away. Terrified of that possibility, Sookie watched that Jaguar ripping across the pavement, tearing off into the distance, and she began to sob violently as those taillights grew smaller. Now Sookie knew how Grace felt Christmas night when Trey's truck pulled away from her house . . . silently she prayed that maybe something they said to Grace would sink in and she would stop, turn that car around and come back home . . . but deep down, reality was lurking, and Sookie wondered if she'd ever see her cousin alive again.

Crying so hard she could barely remain standing, Sookie had her arms clutched around herself when that Corvette slid up beside her. Choking smoke from burning rubber clung to the air, and Eric was beside her in an instant, Nuada tearing out of the passenger seat. "Where the fuck is she going?" Eric yelled.

Sookie just sank onto the hot pavement, not even caring that she was in the middle of a public road, sobbing into her hands. "She's gone . . . she wouldn't tell me."

Nuada never hesitated, instantly disappearing. Sookie had given him a perfect idea. If he shifted himself in front of that car, he could force Grace to stop this same way, make that damn girl listen. He reappeared far down the road, well in front of the Jaguar, outside the reach of the headlights as he waited for her to come. Distant headlights told him another vehicle was fast approaching from far behind him, and Nuada knew he'd have to be careful for fear of finding himself sandwiched in between.

Grace herself was trying to be careful, but driving while hysterical is a challenge under the best of circumstances, but this was far beyond the reaches of any normal circumstance. Terrified out of her mind, and convinced she was running for her very life, Grace had a 420-hp 4.2-liter supercharged V8 growling for all it was worth, and she was fast approaching Eric Northman speeds . . . and speaking of Eric Northman, Grace felt her heart go numb when she glanced in her rear view mirror and saw the distant headlights of a red Corvette coming again. Obviously that vampire was determined and he'd shoved her cousin into that car and was headed her way again.

Agitated beyond comprehension, Grace wondered just how long she could keep the beautiful black creation she was driving ahead of that red monster. Reckless driving was something she simply did not do, and not only that, her mind was flying as fast as that car was. Grace had no idea just how talented these damn elves were at shifting themselves from place to place . . . what if Nuada could shift himself out of that Corvette and come into that car with her? Praying with all her might, Grace pleaded for that not to be true, positive she would drop dead in that seat if he did.

Returning her eyes from the mirrors to the pavement, Grace was aghast to discover exactly where Nuada was. The blond haired tormenter so intent on capturing her was not in that red Corvette . . . he was standing in the middle of that deserted country road directly in front of that Jaguar! Huge grey eyes wide in fear recorded the images in slow motion, a disbelieving mind silently taking in every horrific detail as it was revealed within the ever growing brightness of the headlights . . . that long blond hair, those black elven clothes, the blood streaking that perfect porcelain face . . . Nuada was going to have to move or die. He chose neither.

Incapable of thinking fast enough to hit the brakes, Grace screamed in horror . . . a gut wrenching cry so loud he actually heard it over the roar of the engine and the tires . . . glittering emerald eyes seeing the terror on her face as Grace released the steering wheel, clamping her hands over her mouth when she thought the car would impact his body. The very last thing on earth Grace wanted was to kill Nuada – that honor was reserved for Lord Niall - but if the idiot was stupid enough to stand there, she was powerless to get that car stopped in time.

Thankfully, that new Jag held the road, but Grace certainly didn't hold herself together as unbelievably, Nuada melted away into a mass of firey red and white flames just as that car went blazing through it. Several miles back, Eric and Sookie both cried out in terror as they saw that Jaguar burst into a ball of flames, positive both of their friends were now dead. Seconds later wide black tires bit the pavement as that Corvette rocketed to a halt, dark smoke boiling as Eric and Sookie tried to comprehend what they just saw. Unbelievably, when the thick grey smoke cleared, there was no wreckage, no bodies, no nothing.

Staring down the road Eric couldn't believe that he saw Jaguar taillights disappearing into the darkness, and even that steady vampire nearly pissed himself when Nuada suddenly reappeared beside him. For once Eric agreed with Logan. That was just so very wrong when those damn elves and fairies did that shit!

"What the fuck are you doing?" Eric hissed in fury. 'You're going to give me a heart attack and I'm already dead!" Nuada said nothing, pausing to glare down his nose at Sookie before stalking to the passenger side of the car as Eric hurried back to the drivers seat. This was absolutely not over yet!

Just then a black Escalade came roaring up, stopping directly in their path. Logan had come to Grace's rescue once again. When Nuada appeared and Eric tore out of Fangtasia, Logan was positive they were in hot pursuit of her. That Cadillac was no match for Eric's beastly red sports car, but he'd given it a good run, and that good looking vampire did a fine job, finally finding them and getting himself between them and her. Eric Northman might be able to fly, but he certainly couldn't drive that car through his truck! Grace was safe.

Jumping out of the truck, Logan put on his best blank face and stared at the two furious men and a dazed blonde waitress standing beside an idling Corvette. "What the hell are you doing here?" Eric screamed at him.

"When you tore out of there, I was afraid Niall was coming after Sookie . . . I came to help," Logan told him sincerely, and after a moments hesitation Eric bought it. Considering everything they'd gone through over the past few days, it seemed logical.

Leaning over the top of his car in disgust, Eric roared in disgust. "Fucking Hell! That damn girl is gone again, and now we'll never catch her!"

Logan hid that smug smile, watching Nuada step over to the side of the road, staring blankly into the darkness. In a strange way, Logan almost felt sorry for him, but not really. If everything Cairbre told him was true, that creature didn't deserve much sympathy. He brought this on himself.

***************************************

Standing on the side of a back road in Louisiana, Amarande Nuada stared into the darkness of an unforgiving night, honestly not knowing what he'd brought on himself. He'd been trapped in varying degrees of mental disbelief ever since he'd been thrown to the floor in the private room of Crash Mansion, and this unrelenting nightmare seemed determined not to end. The woman he loved was now gone . . . that ring on her finger completely blocking her from him. Cold emptiness now poured through a lonely soul where sunny warmth had been, a thankful heart positive he was loved, now finding it shattered into a million tiny pieces.

Turning to Eric, his words were simple. "Meet me at her house as soon as you can." Then he disappeared. Moments later, Nuada was indeed standing in front of that little white house on the outskirts of Shreveport for the second time that night, slipping to sit on her favorite little concrete bench, an ancient mind searching for some semblance of normalcy in this unbelievable sequence of events, while a laundry list of silent commands went reeling off into oblivion.

He'd been fighting with Glorfindel when Grace went over, a river of ice washing over him from his nose to his toes when she hit bottom and Cairbre slapped that ring on her finger, the drain from his aura instantly putting him on the floor of that terrace. Unable to move for a moment, he'd watched a sky full of violent storm clouds suddenly clear, ferocious wind and rain dissipate in an instant, all indications that Grace was dead. Nuada didn't see her go over, didn't know if she jumped or fell . . . the height was unbelievable, but she'd survived such a fall before . . .

Wilted deep green fronds broken by the wind hung around him only moments later as Nuada collected himself, coming to stand in the very space where Grace had been only moments earlier. Only seconds later, he was joined by Haldir and Glorfindel, all thought of fighting quickly forgotten. While their feelings told them Grace did die in that fall, there was just one little thing missing – her body. Three curious and enraged supernatural creatures fell on those giant bushes in a frenzy that would've made Logan proud, but when it was all said and done, the only thing at the bottom of that terrace was leaves. Less than five minutes after she disappeared in to the darkness, Nuada had known Grace was not dead . . . and so did Lord Niall.

Furious beyond belief, the briefest collaboration of information revealed that Grace must have hold of the missing ring blessed by Gandalf's spell, and instead of being dead, now Grace was what was missing. As powerful as the six creatures on that terrace were, they had no idea how the hell she did it. Determined to find out, several seconds later Nuada was standing in her little white house, instantly choking and gagging against the fumes that overtook him. He could barely comprehend what was happening, and was lucky to get out alive.

Standing behind Fangtasia, Eric Northman was barely able to comprehend what was happening himself. Enjoying what was supposed to be a quiet moment away from the loud music and frenzy of activity inside Fangtasia, first Logan showed up hyped like he'd been sniffing the plant fertilizer. That was unique enough, and Eric had still been considering the oddity of that when low and behold, Nuada appeared looking like an extra out of a Gladiator movie with blood on his face, wheezing like a madman with swollen eyes pouring tears and smelling like bug spray. Clutching his heart and fighting for air, he staggered toward Eric, managing to hiss the word "Sookie" as he headed for the passenger door of that Corvette. Stunned, Eric didn't even bother asking what was happening. He just climbed in and started driving.

Now some hour and a half later, Eric Northman driving again. After his very unique car chase, he'd dropped Sookie off at her house, wisely refusing to get into an altercation with his fiancée before heading back toward Shreveport to meet Nuada. Now pulling onto the smooth concrete driveway in front of that little white house on the far side of town, Eric knew nothing outside of the very basics - Grace was gone, Nuada was hysterical, Sookie was stunned. That vampire wanted to know just what in hell was going on, and unfortunately Nuada could not tell him.

At Nuada's request, Eric opened the back door of Grace's home, immediately struck by the heavy fog hanging on the air inside. Now the vampire realized why Nuada's eyes and nose were pouring like a river when he showed up earlier. Someone set off twenty-four bug bombs in that little house, pouring out enough poison to keep anything that breathed out for quite some time, effectively delaying any attempts to search it and erasing any residual odors to tell them who the last visitors were. Thankfully, Eric Northman didn't breath, but Grace wouldn't have a roach for the next ten years, and her creative helpers didn't stop there. The perpetrators also poured bleach all over the doorstep and driveway, completely eradicating any trace of scent they might have left behind outside too. Damn smart people, even Nuada and Eric had to admit it.

After opening every window and door and setting the ceiling fans on high, Nuada was finally able to come inside, and together with Eric, they made a thorough search of the house. Very specific things were missing, including her laptop and all its accessories, even the case was gone. That told Nuada this was carefully planned. Someone scared for their life did not take time to carefully pack their computer into a carrying case! It was becoming more obvious by the moment Grace was getting a heaping load of help from somebody, that much he was positive of, and whoever was involved was damn good . . . Nuada was impressed, and that didn't happen very often.

Too bad for them, Nuada was damn good too . . . the best so far as guardians and trackers were concerned, and he intended to hunt that human girl down if he had to scour the entire surface of the earth to find her. Grace had money and means, but Nuada could and would track her bank accounts. She was driving his new Jaguar, and that could be tracked too. Snatching that phone from his pocket, Nuada made a call to the roadside assistance company. Her guardian would never report his car stolen because he refused to have Grace arrested, but that beautiful sports car had a satellite tracking link, and he expected the girl on that phone to tell him exactly where the hell it was. This situation could be handled in under ten minutes.

It was handled in under ten seconds, a horrible frown and vicious foreign language clearing telling Eric Northman the situation wouldn't be handled so easily, Nuada hurling a soon to be useless Blackberry across the room with a wicked screech.

"Disabled!" he snarled in fury.

Obviously, whomever they were dealing with deserved a little more credit . . . and Logan certainly did. That good looking blond vampire already thought about that, and the screwdriver he drove right through the computer center under that little blue button would keep that thing silent forever.

Silent blue buttons aside, there was already a country wide search being held for Grace, compliments of Nuada's silent stream of commands he sent out earlier. The FBI and CIA had nothing on the elves and fairies, and at that very moment there wasn't anything with pointed ears in the human realm that wasn't well informed about that beautiful black Jaguar XKR or the strange little human's description. Eric was getting the vampires involved too, his own cell phone being called into service. His nightly round of calls through the state had an extra addendum of information added, and he didn't stop there, making yet another call to Sebastian Ruthven. Eric and Nuada both assumed Grace would head to South Carolina, and they were already having Trey's shop watched in anticipation.

Assuming that one of them would get a call about Grace soon enough, Eric Northman never anticipated getting one from Grace herself at that very moment. His face was creased in a scowl, positive Sookie was calling to pick a fight, but when he looked at his caller id, that vampire could only stare in stunned disbelief. Was there simply no end to the surprises this night held in store? Bringing it to his ear, Eric was immediately waving across the room toward Nuada, making strange facial expressions, telling him to get his ass over there and listen. The voice coming through the phone was broken and strained, barely understandable, a strange mixture of crying with interspersed sobs, and Eric prayed Grace wasn't actually driving.

No, Grace was not driving. Neither stupid nor in possess of a death wish, she had much more common sense than even Sookie gave her credit for. She'd wisely parked at the second interstate rest area she came to, fighting to collect both her emotions and her physical form before continuing another foot. Deep breaths helped, and finally she was able to head to the bathroom, wash her face and buy herself a drink from the machine.

Carefully walking around that Jaguar assessing the minor damage it had sustained, Grace was anything but the cold hearted little bitch she was perceived to be at times. The soft hearted cousin knew that Sookie was panicking over her sudden departure, a broken hearted lover knowing Nuada was worried to death that she'd killed herself in another car accident trying to escape, a friend positive her favorite vampire was ready to strangle her for this night's strange events. Knowing she could kill three birds with one stone, Grace decided to call Eric. No, she wasn't going to turn around and come back home tonight, but she would let everyone know she was safe and sane.

"Eric," she sniffled, "please listen to me."

If Eric Northman thought he had a weedeater lose in his brain the night Grace called him after Nuada left her, then Grace was positive that vampire had loosed a grain combine in hers when he answered that phone. Shrieking in rage, a pure torrent of wild emotion came pouring through that phone, Eric alternating between English and some foreign language Grace never heard of before. "God dammit Grace how could you? You could have killed me! You could have killed Nuada! You nearly scared poor Sookie to death! Where did you learn to drive like that? What were you thinking? Where the hell are you now? Just what are you intending to do now? You better turn that car around and get yourself back to this house this instant! Better yet, you better tell me where you are right now so we can come get you . . . and take that ring off your finger . . . this is ridiculous! I don't believe you!"

Eric was ranting like a madman and Grace simply hung up on him. Her muddled mind couldn't possible digest all that coming at her, and she wasn't even going to try. She had enough shit to sort though as it was. Eric immediately regretted giving into his temper, suddenly finding himself as furious with himself as he was with Grace. Nuada was furious at them both, looking very much like he was contemplating making Eric eat that damn cell phone on the spot. Both men were very thankful when Grace called back about five minutes later.

"Shut the fuck up and listen," Grace said in a strange, strangled little voice. "If I hang up again, I don't call back." Eric shut up.

"Yes or no, can you protect my cousin from Lord Niall?" Grace asked.

"Yes, I can," Eric answered simply.

"Then do it, because if my great-grandfather ever does to her what him and Nuada . . ." Grace choked on his name, actually sobbing violently, and Eric felt so bad for her he couldn't stand it. It took a few minutes for Grace to even speak again, and glancing at Nuada's face, Eric could tell hearing her sobbing out his name like that was literally eating that man's heart out.

"Just promise me you'll keep Sookie safe from them," Grace finally managed to get out. "Tell her I'll be fine . . . I'm sorry for hitting you with the car earlier . . . I really appreciate everything you've tried to do for me . . . you're great even if you are dead."

This was sounding like a very permanent goodbye, and both Eric and Nuada were about to stroke out. "Grace, listen to me," Eric offered in his best human sultry suck-up voice. It was Sookie's favorite. "I care about you very much and so does Nuada. Whatever it takes for you to get through this, we'll do it if you'll just come back home. I swear that Nuada and I can protect you. Just please tell me where you are, and we're on our way."

"I can't do that," Grace choked out in a whisper. "Please tell Nuada I'm sorry." The line went dead, and Amarande Nuada went completely insane, breaking furniture and tearing huge holes in the walls as Eric struggled to contain him.

Nuada was still going insane when he came stalking down the gleaming white corridor of Facility Four a little while later. That menacing black battle clothing really didn't fit into the pristine white environment, but then that pissed off creature wearing them didn't really give a shit either. What he did give a shit about was standing in the middle of that hall, blindly staring through the open front of that wretched cell he'd been held prisoner in.

"If Erulissë does not return I intend to kill you. Heniach nin?" Nuada said coldly.

Sea green eyes never shifted, simply continued to stare aimlessly into the plush cell with no bars. "This is my fault," the fairy lord offered almost to himself.

"Mae, yes it is, and I hold you responsible for all of it."

"Spare me!" Niall suddenly hissed in return, that beautiful face quickly folding into a threatening glare. "These actions were not by my hand alone. You helped from the very first visit, and you are just as anxious to see Grace complete that ritual as I am!"

"The ritual yes. That . . . episode Erulissë and I endured here two days ago, no! If you wish to punish me, then do so . . . but never would I have considered you heartless enough to use that innocent human girl against me!"

Tears were shining in his eyes when the beautiful fairy turned to face Nuada. Crackled silken flesh gently creased into a terrible frown of despair. "Never doubt the love I hold for my great-grandchild . . . or any of my children Nuada," Niall told him pointedly. "Grace was never supposed to remember . . . How could a simple human mind possibly have reconstructed those events? It simply is not possible! Had I the foresight to see these events, I would certainly not have involved her! Would you actually think that I wish my own descendent hold hatred in her heart toward me?"

"Her hatred is well deserved! You should never have thought to involve Erulissë!" Nuada roared in return. "Had you left things alone, the ritual would have been completed while she slept, and she would have been none the wiser for it, yet look what you have done! Erulissë is an innocent, a mere child! She does not understand these things, and I will be hard pressed to repair the damage!"

"Grace is indeed a child . . . but she is a child that holds your heart, and you hers! Something you cared not to consider when you whored yourself to that piece of wretched filth you insist on soliciting!" Niall growled in return. "Pleasures of the flesh are one thing, but excessive drink and lust are something else entirely! You are a guardian – the most exalted and experienced of them all! I called for you because I wanted only the best for Grace, yet your actions have nearly destroyed her!"

Paling beneath his words, Nuada knew they were true, and his heart cringed at the sound of them. "My apologies are forthcoming, but they are reserved for Erulissë - not you! If you chose to trouble your mind, then might I suggest you devote yourself to prayers toward the Valar that she remain safe until returned to me again."

Frowning desperately, Niall prayed that return would take place quickly. "Is there progress?" he asked.

Nuada's face fell, instantly enveloped by sadness and despair, and Niall knew that was not the case. "No progress. There are obvious signs Erulisse is receiving aid, yet I know not from what source. The obvious suspects would be Haldir or Glorfindel, yet they are not familiar with earth matters, and both were within our sight. The assistance comes from elsewhere."

Niall was deep in thought over that revelation when Savan carefully approached them. He did not know the reason, but Nuada and Niall were in particularly foul moods already, and his news was going to make that mood dramatically worse. "A word please," he commanded gently.

Two sets of glistening green eyes were immediately raking over the powerful healer, although he did not flinch under their glares. One so ancient, who had seen so much, paid no attention to such trivial things as hateful stares. "You should sit." He indicated, an outstretched arm beckoning them to the huge leather sofa still situated within the now faceless holding cell.

Dual frowns of concern took hold as Niall and Nuada slipped to uncomfortably sit in front of Savan. This was not the time for a lecture regarding the unfortunate events of the past few days!

"I fear my news is not pleasant . . ." Savan offered uncertainly, silently searching for the correct words to deliver this news as painlessly as possible, although that was truly not an option. "The blood I took from the child during her last visit here was . . . revealing."

That beautiful moonlit face had a frown of its own now, and Nuada felt cold chills creeping down his spine. If something made Savan frown, it was absolutely horrid to be sure. Feeling his breath quicken, Nuada prodded. "Mae?"

Taking a deep breath, Savan clasped his hands in his lap and straightened his back a little. The only way to deal with such things was face on. "I know of no pleasant way to place these words, forgive me." He inclined his head politely to them both, then continued. "The blood within the child dies. Already weakened at the time of my taking, if calculations are correct, her time spans some four months . . . roughly sixteen weeks, or to the one year anniversary of receiving it. At such time, the life within it shall fail her."

Pale by nature, the very flesh on Niall Brigant's face became translucent at those words, and Nuada felt his entire body go numb. The silence of impending death surrounded them, then finally Nuada managed to find his voice. "Can Erulissë be saved?" he whispered.

"The child can indeed," Savan answered gently. "There are two ways. Completion of the transfer is one . . . although I would strongly recommend against the methods used on her previous visit," he paused to glare at Niall for a moment, "or she shall have to receive of the elf donor again."

Now Nuada's face was as translucent as Niall's was. "Valar be merciful," he murmured to himself.

"There may be more I can offer, if you bring the child to me . . . perhaps tomorrow?" Savan asked expectantly. The healer would love nothing more than to spend some time studying Grace. That expectant expression quickly faded under the complete and utter despair that now cloaked the two faces opposite him. "Might I assume that is a problem?"

Raising wrinkled fingers to massage pounding temples, Niall looked to his oldest friend. "My great-grandchild has disappeared this very night. We are not aware of her location at present time."

Fighting to conceal his obvious surprise, Savan chose to remain positive, seeing that Nuada looked stricken and nearly on the verge of collapse. "The child has time . . . although I must suggest you use it wisely. The sooner she comes to me, the easier this will be." With an apologetic nod, Savan left the two to their thoughts. No matter how powerful, the healer could offer nothing by way of locating lost humans.

After some time, Nuada managed to struggle to his feet, stepping into the corridor before silently disappearing. Moments later, he was once again standing at the little white house nestled along the outskirts of Shreveport, Louisiana. Just as Grace had stood staring only hours before, passing a lingering gaze over the house that was her home, so now did Nuada, a heart broken for the absence of its owner.

Standing in the silent darkness of deepest night, Nuada soon found himself surrounded by the heady fragrance of beautiful flowers, subconsciously working his way to her favorite spot. The small rose garden was everything Grace had ever wanted, those many hours spent pouring over the pages of those magazines finally finding themselves materialized. How many mornings had Nuada silently slipped to hide within the folds of the nearby forest . . . watching Grace ever so carefully tend each plant, gentle rays of the rising run falling against raven hair as she smelled each bud, drawing little birds and butterflies in droves, smiling brightly as she watched them flutter in delight at her mere presence.

Drawing a perfectly formed coral blossom into his fingers, Nuada felt the bruise of thorns against his flesh and slid to the ground in pain, wondering if he would die. The strange human warmth that had comforted him was gone, his aura once bound to hers now abandoned and alone. He cried out in anguish; a desperate soul shattered by fear, a wounded creature positive the burning love Grace defended so fiercely only days ago was extinguished forever as a beautiful rose garden once again provided a silent audience for a broken heart.


	39. Come Monday

Chapter 39 – Come Monday

Monday mornings typically suck, and this one was no different – for anyone – particularly Cairbre. Centuries spent in the marchwarden service offered plenty of experience at concealing one's location, but unfortunately it did little to help when the very marchwardens themselves were the ones hunting you. Barely had the nervous elf's feet hit the soft dirt below the secluded outpost talan than four firm hands had hold of him.

Meldir and Mildor showed no mercy. The elven marchwarden twins were under direct orders from Haldir of Lórien that had been backed up by the glare of the golden warrior himself, and they were most unwavering in their task - that elf was coming back with them! Unceremoniously manhandling Cairbre into submission, the unsympathetic duo literally body snatched that poor elf from one talan to another, forcefully shoving him through the doorway they appeared before only seconds later – the doorway leading in Haldir of Lórien's personal office chamber. Oh Joy! It was going to be lovely day!

Chilling sapphire eyes stared out the window, the beautiful red rose glistening against the rising sun, intricately created out of hundreds of shimmering slivers of glass, the centerpiece of a huge oval stained glass piece Haldir kept hanging in his office to remind him of pleasant things past. Hours on end had Haldir spent considering the beauty of those rich colors against streams of sunshine, allowing his mind to meander back to time spent shared with an odd little human from another world, the red color of the flower on that glass a tribute to the one Grace shared with him the night before she left.

The odd little human and her departure were once priorities in Haldir's mind, and once again Haldir wanted something shared with him . . . but it most certainly was not a red flower. Information was what Haldir wanted – or more specifically demanded - and the impatient drumming of his calloused fingers against his huge carved wood desk told the terrified elf now sinking into the nearest chair that it was not coming fast enough. A new dimension of discontent was being added by Glorfindel in dramatic fashion, the massive elf reclined in the adjoining chair, absently scraping huge chunks of wood off the wall with his battle blade, the odd ripping sound providing a very odd and distinctive accompaniment to that rapidly intensifying finger drumming.

Listening to the odd combination of sounds in conjunction with his own rapid labored breathing, Cairbre wondered if those were the sounds of his very own death march being played out, and if that glistening blade or those calloused fingers would be against his throat in a moment.

"Something you wish to share, mellon nín?" Haldir asked casually, no more inflection in that perfectly cool voice than if he had been commenting on a falling leaf.

Cairbre was not fooled for a moment, the bone chilling blue eyed stare now leveled across that scarred wooden expanse boring into his very soul, silently daring that retired marchwarden not to start talking. A nervous glance to his side revealed that Glorfindel had now stilled, those deep grey eyes as threatening as the violent thunderstorm that raged against Imladris the night before, the piercing stare coming from under that unruly mane of wild golden locks unnerving at best.

"I have done nothing more than uphold the pledge of the marchwarden pendant," Cairbre answered firmly, his chin tilted defiantly as he faced his General. He would offer no apologies for his actions, nor did he regret them.

Icy eyes shattered beneath his words, pure venom now seeping from their depths, the twitch in a firmly clamped jaw belying the strain of the elf trying to contain himself. "This pendant?" Haldir ground out, opening his palm to reveal the sacred talisman clutched within. It had been resting in that hand for many hours now, Haldir refusing to return it to his neck since Grace threw it at him.

"Actions performed under duress are rarely sincere," Cairbre offered calmly, sensing the wild storm of anger and sorrow currently raging within the elf sitting behind that desk.

Indigo depths burned with fury beneath those words. Haldir did not need nor want another kindly word or sympathetic stare for the dark circles under his eyes and obvious discomfort in his soul. No words could encompass the feeling that ring against Grace's flesh inflicted on him. It was if he had been standing in the middle of a sunny field and a huge cloud suddenly blocked the sun's light, leaving him to shiver in its shadow. In conjunction with sharing her pain both at Facility Four and on that terrace the night before, Haldir was a complete physical and emotional wreck . . . not to mention being extremely pissed off.

Shoving his personal discomfort aside, the stoic marchwarden focused on the task at hand – Grace. "Explain your actions, and be thorough," he commanded forcefully.

Easing back into that heavy leather chair, sinewy arms bulged in irritation as they crossed over that wide muscular chest, Haldir assuming the haughty stare he got when he was most displeased with something. Glorfindel responded in kind, intentionally peeling a huge section of wood away from the wall, and tossing it to the floor at Cairbre's feet, almost as if a gauntlet had been thrown down, daring that elf not to comply. Glancing from one to the other, Cairbre felt very much like a plump juicy little mouse just flung down in front of two massive starving beasts, two sets of cold predatory eyes now locked on his form, forcing the elf to wonder if he would make it out of the confines of that office alive.

Haldir already knew much, much more about Grace and her activities than Cairbre was aware of, and if the retired marchwarden was not completely honest with his increasingly agitated general, he might very well find his life forfeit inside those beautifully detailed wooden walls. Unbeknownst to anyone outside of himself and the actual guard on duty, a marchwarden had stood guard over Grace every moment of every day since she left that luxury apartment, silently hidden in the dense forest surrounding that little white house in Shreveport, Louisiana. There had even been rare occasions that Haldir himself spent the night sitting outside the little white house after she moved in, just listening to Grace breathe as she slept, the very sound of it soothing to his soul.

Until Grace got nudged off that terrace last night by her ignorant but well intentioned great-grandfather, Haldir had known exactly where that little human was at all times . . . every minute of every day. Each and every twelve hours an elf guard dutifully reported to the marchwarden general every single thing that went on in the little white house in the edge of town - when Grace came and went, what was taken from that large black vehicle she used for transportation, when she fed the birds and tended the garden, who came to visit her, etc. Right down to the clothes that touched the bronzed flesh of her body, Haldir of Lórien knew all of it.

Had Nuada known, that creature would have been enraged by the fact Haldir did not trust him to protect Grace. That was not entirely true, but it was not entirely incorrect either. Haldir was completely confident in Nuada's abilities as a guardian . . . when he was there to provide them . . . but Nuada did not seem to be devoting himself to the care of Grace the way he should. The impromptu trip to South Carolina had concerned him deeply, the strange visits from vampires brought deep frowns, and Nuada's continual absences for days, sometimes nights on end were unacceptable. Top that off with the strange events of these past few days, and Haldir had absolutely no regrets. Nuada had a lot of explaining to do . . . and thanks to Findecáno's nightly report, so did Cairbre!

Lord Elrond, Gandalf and Glorfindel had been stunned when the young silver haired marchwarden suddenly materialized on the southern terrace of Imladris last night only feet away from Haldir of Lórien. The dutiful elf was flustered, having been wise enough to remain hidden in the shadows until Lord Niall and Nuada left before revealing his presence and presenting his somewhat delayed nightly report. The four men had listened, their attention riveted as a soft beautiful voice recounted the most unusual tale of events imaginable.

Grace – the human girl - had suddenly appeared from within the house in the company of a robust blond vampire and one of their own . . . the retired marchwarden Cairbre . . . the girl was obviously distraught, in physical disrepair, weeping and irate. An odd conversation had taken place between the girl and the vampire while Cairbre placed strange containers in the rear compartment of a small black vehicle - the vehicle that belonged to her guardian. More words were exchanged, the odd threesome seeming to strike some accord, then the human girl had driven away. Upon her departure, the vampire had seemed to sabotage the home, going so far as to pour strange foul smelling liquids on the exterior, then Cairbre and the vampire had both departed.

Findecáno's report led to Haidir's demand for Cairbre's presence, and the nearly twelve hours it took to produce him did nothing to improve his demeanor. That marchwarden general wanted details – now! The tapping and glaring grew more frantic, rapidly convincing Cairbre to relent, although his words and attitude were not what was expected. Retired or not, Lord Elrond himself had entrusted the marchwarden to look over Grace after her return to the human world, and in combination with the promise of that pendant around her neck, Cairbre felt personally responsible for Grace's safety on a nearly infinite level.

"We simply cannot allow Lord Niall to torture Grace again!" Cairbre exploded suddenly. "I cannot imagine the things Nuada repeated to Logan, and Logan was as distraught as I. You yourself shared her pain, can you tell me you will accept her continued torment?"

Torture? Torment? Glorfindel and Haldir looked to each other uncertainly. Their questions as to the events that transpired at Facility Four had never been satisfactorily answered the night before. A full explanation of events had never been offered, and once Grace's memory decided to return, all efforts shifts from conversation to survival as she called down the very heavens on them. Frowning desperately, Haldir could only imagine how Grace had suffered, and while he wanted to be released from that blood bond more than anything, he did not agree with the torment or torture of any creature under any circumstances. It simply was not the way of the elves.

"Tell me everything . . . am I to assume this Logan is the vampire of which you speak? And how is it that you come to possess this information?" Haldir insisted, those fingers returning to the surface of that desk, a little drumbeat of fingertips providing cadence for the story he intended to hear.

Two days . . . Caribre had spent two days time shifting himself between the marchwarden camp, Rivendell and Bon Temps . . . he spent two days doing what marchwardens do . . . carefully listening, watching and waiting, taking in details of strange events, absorbing the suffering being endured, hearing the odd conversations being held. While his nerves may no longer be the best, his mind was the equivalent of a steel trap, and like Haldir, he did not care to see any creature suffer discomfort.

The odd appearance of Grace's recovering form in Rivendell had prompted a quick trip to her home, a kind and concerned friend seeking to collect some of her things, hoping to comfort Grace when she woke. Imagine his surprise when Logan unexpectedly showed up, fresh from listening to a very revealing conversation between Nuada and Eric. Within moments, genuine concern had transformed an unlikely friendship into a powerful alliance. Information was shared, each one possessing a tremendous amount of knowledge the other did not, and together they constructed a horrific picture of what Grace had endured.

"Logan is a friend. He volunteered to take care of things in the human realm. He may be a vampire, but he is very well connected. I was most impressed with his ingenuity in making preparations! Rarely would even one so dutiful as yourself be more thorough in preparations as that creature was in preparing for Grace to escape."

"And just how would a vampire be so well versed in the art of hiding a human?" Glorfindel demanded harshly. "What do you know of this creature? Are you so certain he has not taken the girl, handed her over to Lord Niall himself in exchange for some favor or reward?"

"I am most positive he has not!" Cairbre fumed in return. "Logan shared with me some of his history. Before being turned vampire, he was a mortal member of a secret society . . . a priory . . . he was an actual European knight! One of the last of a dying breed of magnificent and brave men before he and his brother were both attacked and turned one night. While his duty to the church was forfeit after his conversion, his personal devotion to the pursuit of fairness and honor has most certainly not changed! Vampire or not, the man showed me the sacred mark on his body proving his history, and I believe him! Tis no different than this order of wardens that we ourselves belong to! We are devoted to our task, trustworthy and honest as is that man."

Those fingers were tapping more slowly now, but Haldir did not look convinced or relieved. "Well, please share what it is that this most honorable vampire has done with the human I have sworn my very life to protect!" he snarled viciously, his personal thoughts aligning with Glorfindel – what wouldn't Niall Brigant pay for Grace's return to him? She was now a quite valuable commodity!

Swallowing hard, Cairbre cast a very wary look from Haldir to Glorfindel and back again. "I have no idea," he murmured quietly.

Deathly silence descended over the confines of that office space, silence broken only by the sound of three creatures struggling for breath. Suddenly Glorfindel climbed out of his chair and clamped Cairbre around the shoulders, leaning right into the now terrified elf's face, exclaiming loudly, "Valar have mercy, you cannot be serious! Tell me you are on the wine this morning and you have not handed care of the Pinilyaer over to a blood drinking undead creature of the night and you know not what this creature did with the girl. Tell me your words are in jest! Breathe, elf! Show me your breath that you are drunk and out of your mind!"

Glorfindel began to shake Cairbre while he was speaking, almost as if he were trying to wrestle an alternate answer from his body, and Cairbre struggled to remain calm. It was extremely difficult – no, it was damn near impossible - because at this juncture, he agreed wholeheartedly with Grace – that was one scary freaking elf right there! Valar do be merciful – on him – because if that damn golden haired hulk of an elf sniffed him one more time, Cairbre was positive he would die!

Trembling by the time Glorfindel finally turned loose, Cairbre fought to find his voice to finally reply. "Vampire thoughts cannot be read by even such powerful minds as our own. If I do not know where Grace is, I cannot be forced to tell. Logan assures me that he has safe sanctuary in another place, far away from Louisiana. To that home Grace has been directed. She will remain safe and hidden until these things are sorted through."

Haldir was taking this no better than his dear friend, actually beginning to crawl across the top of that desk after Cairbre, only he didn't intend to shake him, he intended to strangle him! "How did you get hold of my ring?" he hissed, retching out that word "my" loud enough to make Cairbre's spine melt.

"Your cloak," Cairbre answered in a small, uncertain voice casting a terrified glance to the elf beside him. There might be a substantial and comforting desk between him and Haldir, but there was nothing but air between him and Glorfindel. Those huge golden hands had reclaimed that battle blade, and the knife was just flipping to and fro, throwing ever brightening rays of sunlight into the air, reminding Cairbre just what damage it could inflict. Mesmerized for a moment, it took an impatient throat clearing from Haldir to redirect Cairbre's muddled mind to focus. Poor thing.

A pure frog eyes stare of monumental proportions consumed Cairbre's face as he faced Haldir, the poor terrified creature leaning so far back in his chair that it was a true miracle it didn't tip over and spill him onto the floor. "The night Grace healed you . . . an elf . . . wrapped her in a cloak before returning the girl home. Was your cloak that . . . elf . . . chose. I found it the night I went to her home. My original intention was only to search her home for things to comfort her when she awoke . . . but after hearing Logan's story, my intentions changed and I do truly hope you can understand why!" His voice was trembling so hard by the time he finished, it took a moment for the meaning of his words to become clear.

An elf . . .took Haldir's cloak . . . the cloak with the ring . . .

An elf . . . named Glorfindel perhaps?

Oh shit!

With a huge crash and a flurry of flying blond hair, Glorfindel slammed his battle blade into Haldir's desk, throwing his head down on the corner and muttering viciously to himself. "Alae! I Anor hílol . . . Mae, yes the sun is shining this beautiful morning, revealing to all that Glorfindel the Golden Warrior is an idiot! Tis not Cairbre who has taken leave of his senses – tis me! By my own hand have I provided the source of the Pinilyaer's concealment! Valar be merciful, I am the one responsible for all this."

Caribre nearly pissed his pants, while Haldir had gone pale as a ghost. The marchwarden had removed himself from the top of that desk and returned to his chair, but that trembling hand against his temple clearly showed all was certainly not well. "And where might my cloak be now?" he asked, his voice terribly strained.

"Tis in the trunk of that car she drove off in," Cairbre responded brightly. "Grace still takes pleasure in your presence, and if your cloak could provide her comfort after the unfortunate events she experienced in our marchwarden hall, I felt it would provide her continued comfort on her journey."

"Rhaich!" Haldir literally screeched. "It will provide her continued concealment on her journey! Had you bothered to be more thorough in your search of MY cloak, you would have discovered not only that sacred ring, but a parchment with the very words of the cloaking spell resting upon it!" Haldir paused, not believing the words about to come out of his mouth. "Cairbre – you have given Grace the most powerful cloaking spell Gandalf has ever created!"

That revelation brought Glorfindel's head right up off that desk, and Cairbre had to take a moment to collect himself. Not good – not good at all.

"I doubt the Pinilyaer ever finds that parchment, and even if discovered, Grace would have no idea of such things. Rest yourself Haldir, the girl will do nothing with that spell," Glorfindel said confidently, trying to offer some positive perspective to this increasingly strange conversation. Secretly, he held no confidence whatsoever in his own words. Grace was a conniving little creature . . . all fey were . . . the golden warrior put nothing past that human for a second.

As expected, Haldir didn't believe it either. "That girl can do things my eyes have never seen before!" he hissed frantically. "Put nothing past Grace . . . she is one of the most cunning and creative adversaries I have ever encountered, and I would warn you to put nothing past Nuada as well. That creature will not take this news lightly, and Cairbre . . . know that your very breaths are numbered should he find out your involvement in this . . ."

"Lasto!" Glorfindel interrupted. "Tis too late . . . the mercenary is here!"

A frantic flurry of activity consumed that office – commonly referred to as all hell breaking loose – as three elves struggled desperately to secure weapons and look nonchalant simultaneously, which was impossible under any circumstances, particularly these most unusual ones! Cairbre looked as if he were seriously considering throwing himself through the window, while Haldir looked to be honestly considering helping him with that proposition. Thankfully, Glorfindel suddenly had a remarkable - albeit uniquely creative - solution. Without a word, he clamped hold of that terrified elf yet again, dragging him around Haldir's desk and unceremoniously stuffing him under it like a piece of trash.

"Move and die!" he growled into the pasty white face of a now trembling elf, silver eyes stretched wide in fear, positive these tortured breaths would be his last.

Glorfindel pushed Haldir down into that chair and shoved it up to the desk as casually if he were helping a lady be seated at dinner, then nonchalantly sidled round to the other side, his massive form just slipping into his seat when the pounding began. Haldir wasn't sure what to do, trying to buy enough time for everyone to compose themselves somewhat – although that was nearly impossible with one of your friends under your desk with his face in your crotch - but the solid and obviously unfriendly knocks coming from that door weren't giving him much time to find an alternative solution either. Sliding a knife into his lap that nearly clipped Cairbre's nose hairs, Haldir was just about to answer when Nuada kicked the door in, gliding through the splintered wood without a glance.

A glittering emerald eyed stare was passed over one occupant then the other, the very posture of the intimidating mercenary now standing in the center of that office leaving little doubt this was not a social call. The two elves under his consideration both looked at if they just swallowed their tongue - Haldir in particular - and neither left any doubt Nuada had just interrupted a private moment of some sort.

The scent of fear hung heavy on the air, and as Nuada began to speak, he also began to hone in on its source. "What have you learned of the past nights events?" he demanded harshly, a careful look revealing Haldir to be in little better shape than he was, Nuada sporting the same dark circles and painful expression himself.

"I have gathered a bit of useful information," Haldir said somewhat evasively, perfectly capable of blocking Nuada's mental rummaging. "Although I would surmise that Grace has fallen into possession of a certain trinket which is assisting her in remaining hidden from view."

"A trinket? Explain," Nuada demanded coldly.

"There is a ring . . . crafted by Gandalf to assist me in breaking the bond I share with Grace. It is embodied with a very powerful cloaking spell," Haldir offered somewhat uncertainly, his gaze periodically shifting beneath his desk, carefully considering the pale face framed between his two leather clad legs, those startled silver eyes staring up at him uncertainly.

"That ring was the reason for our visit to the Pinilyaer's home some months past . . . to test its power . . . I am sure you recall the day. I did mention the ring in our conversation," Glorfindel interrupted, trying to draw Nuada's attention away from the desk.

Still trying to discern what was distracting Haldir, a light suddenly went off in Nuada's mind, his attention thankfully shifting away from the fear hanging heavy on the air in that office, to the memories of a most unpleasant afternoon. While he obviously did not pay Glorfindel's comments the attention they deserved, he certainly recalled that painful day quite clearly. No wonder he felt as if his very brain was being pulled from his skull that day! A ring with a powerful cloaking spell being played with by Grace and Haldir of Lórien . . . this was the reason for his mental anguish that day in Los Angeles? He assumed the wild emotions he suffered were because Haldir and Grace were sharing a romantic tryst! They were doing nothing of the sort – they were trying to block themselves from one another! Valar be merciful, he'd been an idiot again!

Emotions aside, that personal mental berating would have to be saved – and apologized for – another day. The task at hand was much more important. "And what of this ring . . . how would Erulissë come to possess it?" Nuada pressed.

Elves cannot lie . . . or can they?

"When the Pinilyaer healed Haldir, she was obviously distraught afterward," Glorfindel confessed, taking full responsibility for his actions. "Upon leaving, I placed a cloak around her, and was unfortunate in my actions as to choose the garment of Haldir of Lórien. Upon my departure from her home, I did not reclaim the cloak . . . the Pinilyaer thereby has found herself in possession of not only the cloak, but the spellbound ring as well."

Ok – Glorfindel didn't lie – he omitted. Not the same!

The explanation both infuriated and soothed Nuada. Having Grace inadvertently come into possession of such a "trinket" was inexcusable, but given the odd circumstances, certainly understandable. Glorfindel was only seeking to comfort Grace, and Nuada could not fault him for it. Had his sorry ass been at her side as was his sworn duty, this entire situation would have been avoided, so who was he to now point fingers in blame?

"And am I to assume the sacred spell on this ring will neither fade with time, nor can it be broken with another?" Nuada asked tensely, already positive of the answer. He needed to know exactly what he was up against.

"You are correct. Gandalf made it so," Haldir reluctantly confirmed, his voice and expression softening. "The ring was made with only the best of intentions, Nuada . . . a sincere effort to free both myself and Grace from our bond, so she might be free to love the one she chooses." The hidden meaning in his words was very clear. Haldir of Lórien knew Grace was in love with Nuada, and he did not fault her for it.

"Very well, then my task is now to persuade Erulissë to remove it," Nuada replied, almost to himself.

"Good luck with that!" Cairbre murmured under his breath without realizing it, earning himself a quick little smack up side the head from Haldir. Startled, the trapped elf glanced up, finding Haldir glaring down at him, his message unmistakable – shut the fuck up – and he did. Crouched under that desk, Cairbre was in the most unique position of his life, his face in Haldir of Lórien's crotch, his body trembling in fear, as scared as if he'd been facing an entire nest of angry wargs, positive at any moment Nuada was going to rip that desk off top of him, then tear his very heart out . . . which might have been preferential to having his face in Haldir of Lórien's crotch.

"Anything more?" Nuada asked abruptly, staring at the desk oddly.

Haldir carefully blanked his face, forcing himself to focus his full attention on Nuada. "Nothing except the extension of my offer to help if it is warranted. I know nothing of earth matters, nor do I have any way to connect with Grace, but know that both myself and the marchwarden guard will do anything possible to ensure her safe return," Haldir offered sincerely, having no desire to go to war with Nuada over Grace's disappearance.

"I gladly offer the same," Glorfindel added, desperate for Nuada to leave. "My sword and shield are yours for the asking."

"Rim hennaed, mellyn nin," Nuada replied with a curt head nod, turning to leave. Too tired and too irritated to resist, Nuada suddenly stopped and turned back toward Haldir, the slightest hint of a smirk creasing the corners of his lips.

"Might I extend some advice myself?"

"Mae . . . yes, and that would be?" Haldir responded politely.

"Before you dare to risk your life again making unsavory comments as to my infidelities toward Erulissë, you may want to remove that unfortunate creature cowering under your desk . . . I would not hazard a guess as to the status of your relationship with Cerylia, but at least my transgressions led me into the arms of another female . . . not another male."

Haldir of Lórien had never been so stunned, his eyes growing to the size of ripe summer melons in the sun, while Glorfindel's mouth dropped open, the elf rendered completely speechless. Oh, but Nuada was not finished. He had a memorable parting comment for that elf as well.

"Do be sure to hone your sensory skills golden warrior, for obviously the reincarnation has stolen them from you. I know in my heart that you cannot possible be a willing participant in such things . . . nor can I imagine you knowingly sitting on the opposite side of a desk while such atrocities of pleasure are being provided."

Turning on his heel, Nuada left without another sound, leaving three stunned and staggered elves to digest his words. They thought Grace calling him Fido Fucker on that terrace last night was hilarious, but payback's a bitch, and Amarande Nuada just got it - the ultimate insult, the perfect revenge. In your face, elf boys!

Glorfindel was biting his lip so hard it bled to keep from snickering - although he intended to go roll around in a field and laugh his ass off shortly – carefully keeping his face completely blank for Haldir's sake. Cairbre was incapable of making a coherent sound, but he squealed like a pig when Haldir clamped those firm hands around his head and hauled that mortified elf out from under his desk. His horrified expression left little doubt what he thought about Nuada's words, and Cairbre know at some point, he would pay dearly for this.

"Not one word of this ever, or I will kill you myself!" Haldir growled out viciously. The Marchwarden General of the Galadhrim had done a lot of things to ensure the safety of his subordinates, but this most assuredly, topped them all.

********************************************

Nuada truly enjoyed the comic relief Haldir's discomfort provided, but Sookie Stackhouse was getting nothing of the sort. In Bon Temps, the rising sun revealed a devastated creature that was suffering, a terrible emptiness swallowing her during the night, making the beautiful blonde waitress feel as if there were a huge hole torn directly through the center of her heart. Just as Nuada and Haldir felt abandoned, so did Sookie. The warm and comforting mental connection she'd grown so used to with her cousin was gone, erased by a magic spell on a ring, and she prayed it wouldn't stay on her cousin's thumb for long. Sitting at her kitchen table, Sookie was positive this would be a long and terrible day, and she knew exactly who to blame . . . she was just waiting for them to show up.

It was early afternoon when the soft knock came, ancient flesh pressing against the solid wood of a front door, a unique pair of visitors come calling at the big white farmhouse on Hummingbird Lane. Sookie had long ago taken her shower and dressed, the girl now furiously scrubbing her kitchen floor in irritation, the only way she knew how to release the nervous energy consuming her and occupy her time. Opening the door, the beautiful blonde had known who was there before she stepped outside, the imprint of two upset and impatient entities easily readable, their anger and grief almost palpable in her mind.

Opening the door of her home, Sookie stood framed in the doorway wearing her apron and bright yellow plastic gloves, staring at the imposing pair as nonchalantly as if they were selling Girl Scout cookies. Intimidating supernatural creatures just didn't impress her anymore – she'd seen too many.

"Where is Grace?" Niall demanded instantly, seeing his great-granddaughter visibly cringe at the harshness of his voice.

The snarled question brought an instant frown. Sookie did not appreciate Lord Niall's tone or his angry glare. According to what little she knew, Grace leaving was his fault! She glared at him.

"Where did my great-grandchild go?" Lord Niall insisted, barely controlling his anger. He loved them both to a fault, but if Sookie was helping to hide Grace from him, it was going to far.

"I have no idea," Sookie finally snapped in return, her voice tired, "and I wouldn't tell you if I did!"

Sea green eyes narrowed as Niall stared at his defiant great-grandchild, positive Sookie Stackhouse knew much, much more than she was willing to let on . . . and already irritated to no end, Sookie just stared right back at him, finally putting her hands on her hips as she stood in the doorway. She could do this all day!

"Child . . . I believe you most certainly do," Niall told her firmly, "and I expect you to tell me where Grace has gone, or at the very least where the telephone she is using to call you came from." That drew an immediate frown, her very expression confirming what Niall and Nuada already suspected.

Grace had been on the phone with Sookie intermittently throughout the night - they were positive of it. The fairy guardians were tracing all incoming and outgoing calls to that farmhouse, and she'd received several . . . all from a blocked caller id cellular phone. Who else could it possibly have been besides Grace? The guardians hadn't been able to hear the conversation on the line - and after Eric's not so subtle threat, even Niall knew not to sneak inside to eavesdrop - but the fairy lord was absolutely positive Grace not only called, but that she told her cousin where she was headed . . . and that was information he expected to be shared!

"You're spying on me? You listened to my phone calls?" Sookie said, shock taking over her exhausted expression. "After you snuck into my house and stole my cousin out of my spare bedroom, you're got the nerve to stand on my porch wanting me to tell you where she is?" Every word got louder and more shrill, Sookie quickly approaching the point of screaming directly into Lord Niall's face . . . not necessarily the best idea at this particular moment.

Very calmly Nuada eased up beside Niall, his soft soothing voice coming across the wide planks of that old front porch like the summer breeze. "Sookie, it is not important how we know Erulissë called you. The only thing that matters is her safe return. Both Niall and I are most concerned for Erulissë . . . concerned for her safety. Now please, saes tell me where Erulissë has gone, give me some way to find her . . . or as Niall suggested, if you do not know where she is, then tell me about the phone she has come into possession of . . . who provided it, the originating number . . . anything that will help me to bring her back home."

Sookie Stackhouse looked at Amarande Nuada like he was pond scum. "Last I saw, Grace was trying to get the hell away from you, not come home to you . . . or did I miss something last night when she tried to run you over in the road?"

Lord Niall went pale, passing an uncertain glance over Sookie's sincere expression and the hateful stare she had Nuada locked down under, then he added a burning glare of his own. Obviously much went on last night that mercenary had neglected to share with him! Nuada said nothing, suddenly becoming intrigued by the intricacies of the geranium Sookie had on the nearby porch table, looking over every petal as if it were the most fascinating thing in existence.

"Sookie . . . please child, surely Grace revealed something," Lord Niall prompted again, returning his attentions to his great-grandchild, his irritation growing by the second. He would deal with Nuada later.

"I promise you, she didn't," Sookie insisted firmly. "I don't know were Grace went, and she didn't tell me when she was coming back." So there! Sookie added silently to herself, knowing if that wasn't a fairy lord standing in front of her, she'd probably stick her tongue out at him.

"Well how exactly do two young human women spend a total of 72 minutes on the phone and say nothing to one another?" Nuada prodded, somewhat tersely. "Surely you spoke of something besides the weather."

The pond scum glare returned.

Seeing that Nuada was only serving to irritate Sookie, Lord Niall stepped slightly between them. "Come child, calm yourself. Everyone is simply upset that Grace is gone. Now please, think of what you discussed . . . was there mention of anything particular that would reveal where she was headed? Do you know if she spoke to anyone before leaving? Did she see anyone? Is there anyone else she might have called?"

Giving Nuada her best "bite my ass" glare, Sookie turned her attentions back to her great-grandfather. Was that fairy suffering from a sudden bout of southern stupidity disease? Either that, or in his old age he'd forgotten how to understand the English language because obviously, he wasn't absorbing what she was telling them!

"She didn't tell me anything. I don't know where Grace went, great-grandfather," Sookie told him again, emphasizing each and every word. "I. Do. Not. Know."

"You most certainly do!" Nuada hissed, unable to control himself.

Easing farther out the door, Sookie locked Nuada in a vicious glare that would have made even Grace proud. "I most certainly don't!" Sookie snapped sarcastically, stepping right around Lord Niall, actually putting that little insistent finger in Nuada's face. "She didn't call me to talk last night, Grace called me to cry – over you! She wanted to be sure she didn't kill you with that car, although I don't see why she cares after you screwed that damn werewolf in Los Angeles! And if somebody needs to be answering questions around here, it's you, not me! What the hell what that shit last night with you and Eric in my yard? What did you do to make her look like that? Huh? What did you do to scare Grace so bad she actually ran from you?"

Sookie was on a tear, that soft southern drawl just spitting those words out at those two men - Nuada in particular - and every syllable was ripping that man apart . . . particularly that last sentence . . . what did you do to scare Grace so bad she ran away from you? All the color drained from his face, and Nuada honestly began to wonder if the unbearable pain in his heart was capable of killing him.

Sookie was playing with true hell fire and she didn't know how very close she was to getting burnt. Amarande Nuada had endured as much heartache over the past several days as most creatures endure during a lifetime, he hadn't eaten or slept in so long he didn't even remember, and that tiny sliver of sanity he was still clinging to was fading fast. Torture at Facility Four morphed into Grace being snatched then ultimately a battle on the terrace of Imladris, and now her disappearance. The longest night in recent memory had swung wildly from car chases, to house searches, arguments with Niall to horrible news from Savan . . . finally culminating in a good cry in Grace's rose garden . . . his first ever, tears rung from Nuada's very soul by this strange and powerful new emotion he found himself experiencing for the very first time . . . this thing called love.

Had it ended there, Nuada would have deserved sympathy, but even that peace didn't last. In the midst of his personal crisis, Nuada received news from the guardians . . . Grace's cell phone had been traced to a rest area on the Interstate. Dragging himself off the ground, he was still clutching that coral rose in his hand when he came to stand in that rest stop ladies restroom, retrieving a discarded magenta Razor cell phone from the trash. It was still in his pocket, right where it was when he'd gone to see Haldir of Lórien, and after that revealing little chat, Sookie could rest assured Amarande Nuada was in no mood for sarcasm or smart ass comments.

Now listening to the vile thoughts pouring from Sookie's mind in his direction, that calm exterior slowly began to crack. Nuada was clenching his own teeth now, silently praying Sookie didn't call him Fido Fucker, because he couldn't promise what his reaction to that was gonna be considering the enormous strain he was under.

Thankfully, Lord Niall's demeanor disintegrated first, quickly ending their sniping. Suddenly beautiful and gently wrinkled hands came up to cover a face creased in desperation, the embarrassed fairy turning away to hide his emotions. Pacing frantically for a moment to regain his composure, he finally sank into the front porch swing, completely destroyed by the fact that one of his descendents actually fled from him in fear. Was he not ultimately the creature responsible for these events?

"Please child . . . will you tell your great-grandfather if you hear from Grace again?" His expression and voice were both tortured, neither leaving any doubt the depth of concern he held for Grace and her safe return.

Angry or not, Sookie Stackhouse was much too kindhearted not to feel sorry for Niall when he got that weepy look. Immediately, she was at his side, slipping to sit with him in the porch swing, a gentle supportive arm around his shoulder. "Grace was very scared last night. I don't know why, she didn't tell me, but I know Grace . . . she'll calm down and she'll come back. You know how her temper gets the best of her sometimes . . . just give her time to cool off, and she'll be home before you know it."

Sea green eyes glistened with extra moisture while silken flesh creased into a terrible frown. "My actions drove her away. Are you so unhappy with me as well? Would you leave this place not to suffer me anymore?" His heart was obviously broken, his devastation from whatever he had done clearly showing.

Watching her great-grandfather closely, Sookie wondered what he was feeling so guilty about . . . Nuada she understood, but not Niall . . . obviously, a lot went on while Grace was gone. She just needed to find out what.

"She'll call again soon," Sookie offered in assurance, "and don't worry. I'm never leaving this place." Silently, Sookie added to that statement. I'm never leaving Eric, you just happen to stop by a lot. Giving him one of her super bright fake smiles, she patted his arm politely, although her heart wasn't quite in it. Great-grandfather or not, if Niall did something to hurt Grace, Sookie Stackhouse would never forgive him.

Still frowning terribly, Niall stood and silently disappeared, leaving Sookie and Nuada on the porch alone. Left leaning against one of the huge support columns with his arms crossed over his chest, glowing emerald eyes were considering Sookie intently. "What has Erulissë told you? If you do not wish to tell Lord Niall, then saes, please tell me. Do you know who is helping her? Where did she get the new phone from Sookie?" he asked very carefully, his voice smooth as satin when it came across that porch.

That creature looked as tranquil as a mountainside stream . . . a very carefully constructed and completely false illusion . . . but Nuada would do whatever necessary to get the required information and bring Grace back home, including kiss Sookie's ass for a limited period of time. If he could coddle or coerce an account name or originating number out of that stubborn little human girl now glaring at him, he could triangulate Grace's location from the nearest transmission towers . . . and he could go get her!

"She didn't tell me anything . . . besides your new nickname," Sookie ground out sarcastically, watching in satisfaction as every muscle in Nuada's body clenched in anger. Running a very assessing – and appreciative – look over Nuada, Sookie could easily see why Grace was so attracted to him. That man looked nothing short of marvelous standing there in all black, that blonde hair glowing . . . even the dark circles under his eyes couldn't make that creature look bad!

Silently, Nuada wondered just how many times Grace intended to call him that, and how many people she would tell before it was over. Forcing himself to remain calm, he remained true to the task at hand. "Saes, please answer my questions Sookie. What did Erulissë tell you?"

"Absolutely nothing," Sookie admitted harshly. "Which tells me everything! She was so upset she couldn't even talk . . . and the few words she did manage to get out didn't make any sense. If what happened to her is so bad she can't even talk about it, then it must have been even worse that I imagined . . . and after hearing her scream in my mind for hour after hour, I can imagine a lot."

Climbing out of that porch swing, Sookie walked across the porch toward Nuada, Sookie pinned that man down under a piercing stare . . . the classic "make Eric Northman talk" look . . . and she resorted to her own form of blackmail, that soft sultry southern drawl ever reminiscent of Grace's, so persuasive and appealing as Sookie began to talk. Nuada wasn't the only one willing to kiss ass to get answers.

"Why don't you tell me what happened, Nuada? What happened to make her scream like that? And last night . . . Grace said she fell off a terrace . . . did she mean that house I saw? Did somebody throw her off the balcony in Rivendell? What is Grace running from?"

The combination of imploring eyes and that soft southern voice was more than Nuada could endure at that moment, and he finally had to turn away, tortured eyes falling to study the porch floor. The intense reaction surprised Sookie. His thoughts were hidden from her, but there was enough pain and sorrow coming off that creature to peel paint. Sookie couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Nuada?" Sookie called to him softly, her voice still so gentle on his ears as she called his name. Maybe her surprise for him would help.

For the longest time Nuada ignored her, but when he finally meet her gaze, his face was haunted . . . drawn, painful and sad . . . his eyes glistened against the afternoon sun. "Mae?" he answered, his voice as broken as he looked.

"Grace told me to give you these," Sookie told him quietly, closing the distance between them to press Grace's keys into his hand. "She's really sorry about taking your new car, but she said you told her to drive it whenever she wanted. Her truck is yours until she gets back." Nuada stared at her in disbelief. Yes he remembered that little tidbit of conversation from last night . . . Grace was worried about the car? The damn girl got flung off a terrace . . . nearly backed over Eric . . . almost ran him down like roadkill . . . and she was concerned about the fucking car? Grace didn't have anything else in her little world to be more worried about that his car?

Both stunned and enraged, Nuada stared down at those Cadillac keys wanting to make Grace eat the damn things, but then memories of her and that obnoxious beloved truck of hers began trickling through his mind . . . and a slight smile touched the corners of his mouth. As stubborn and ill tempered as Grace could be, why should this surprise him? Leave it to that impossible hardheaded human to steal his car, try to run him down and kill him in it, and in the midst of it all politely remember her southern manners and offer him the use of her truck because it was the proper thing to do.

Shaking his head in amazed acceptance, Nuada suddenly felt a thousand times better. If Grace was thinking straight enough to worry about him having something to drive, hopefully Sookie was telling the truth. Perhaps this was nothing more than an overreaction to fear from an unknown situation. Her nerves and temper would settle . . . she would call him, tell him where she was . . . Grace would come home.

Finding the slight smile much preferential to the teary eyed look, Sookie patted Nuada gently on the arm. "Grace believes," she told him firmly.

Genuinely confused by her words, Nuada tilted his head and looked at her oddly. "Believes . . . in what?"

"In you silly," Sookie answered, nudging him jokingly as she tried to keep his mood up.

Nuada didn't seem to find any humor in it. His sad expression was back in full reveal.

Sookie looked up at him sympathetically. "Nuada, you'll never know how much Lord Elrond telling Grace that elves couldn't love a mortal upset her – it just tore my cousin apart - but we talked about it, and I told her it wasn't any different than me and Eric. I believe we'll be together forever. I don't know how, I just know it – I believe. Grace was determined not to let herself fall in love with you, but I told her if she believed ya'll could be together forever too."

Nuada went pale as a ghost, and Sookie knew those words were hitting home in the worst way. Staring right into that perfect porcelain face, Sookie gave Nuada the same protective look he'd gotten on that very porch before from Trey Lockhardt. "Nuada, do you love Grace?" Sookie asked seriously, already knowing the answer.

A broken heart could not hide its pain at that question, glistening green eyes now shimmering brighter under the crease of a furrowed brow. "Mae . . . yes, Sookie I love Erulissë with all my heart," Nuada answered softly, the pain in his voice abundantly clear.

"And Grace loves you too," Sookie assured him. "She believed in you before this all happened Nuada . . . make her believe again." Patting his arm gently, Sookie turned and went inside. She did not doubt the depth of feelings the supernatural creature still standing on her porch held for her cousin, nor did Sookie doubt that those feelings were returned, but she had no idea how to repair this thing between them . . . and unfortunately, neither did either one of them.

The sun fell that afternoon on two lonely, desolate creatures . . . two people in love who longed to be together . . . but who were so very far apart. Amarande Nuada was sitting in the middle of Grace's rose garden yet again, a coral rose clutched in his hand, a set of Cadillac truck keys firmly gripped in the other. He was in Shreveport, Louisiana wondering where his beloved Erulissë was . . . and in a strange place far removed from that location, Grace herself was wondering the exact same thing.

That stunning black automobile she stole from his last night had proven itself worthy of the name Jaguar, purring down the interstate with her safely nestled behind the wheel. Hour after hour it clawed its way down Interstate 20 away from Louisiana, down the reaches of Texas and finally all the way to the coast. The smell of Nuada had been intoxicating, almost as if his very essence permeated the leather of the seat that cradled her, silently promising Grace that he would warm her too if she would just return, but she refused to relent. That Jaguar now rested in the neat concrete driveway of a weathered grey two story, six bedroom monster of a raised beach house, safely tucked at the farthest end of this tiny remote island, well away from everything and everyone, the perfect place to tend a broken heart and shattered soul.

Falling sunlight painted a glorious multi-hued picture over gently rolling waves, a young human girl exhausted, confused and frightened as she finally slid out of that gleaming and now slightly dented black Jaguar. It had taken twelve diet Dr. Peppers, two supersize bags of Cheetos, about fourteen bathroom breaks, two drivethrus, and nearly eighteen hours, but Grace had finally reached her destination. Logan's highlighted map and careful instructions provided explicit directions, and at that very moment Grace found herself on a tiny speck of land known as South Padre Island, Texas.

Mentally and physically drained to the point of numbness, her soul still warmed as Grace stood barefoot in the driveway, watching the sun begin to fade over a beautiful sandy beach and rolling ocean swells for the first time months. It was indeed comforting, but Grace forced herself to focus, turning away from the afternoon's beauty and tending to the necessities of survival in some sort of daze. The key was under the ground floor entrance door mat just as promised, and with a quick turn of the knob, Grace stepped inside.

The house was massive, simple and inoffensive, the perfect beach home, very much like the one Grace herself had recently vacated. Hardwood floors throughout were complimented with light whitewashed wood walls, everything very straightforward with no frills to weigh down the clean ocean air. There were no curtains on the seemingly dozens of huge windows, every room providing breathtaking views of water . . . the house was obviously near the tip of the island, because water could easily been seen from both sides . . . the rooms were large, simply furnished in solid, unobtrusive furnishings all made of the same light wood as the walls, while every bed was dressed in the same casual blue denim and white mixture of linens. Everything smelled fresh and clean, the entire house providing the perfect compliment to the salty air and rhythmic sound of the ocean just outside, and Grace prayed it would provide her wounded spirit therapy to heal.

Refusing to sit for fear she might not find the strength to move again, Grace trudged reluctantly on. Suitcases came inside, bath items were safely stowed, but clothes stayed in the suitcase in fear of a quick departure. The package of paperwork provided by Logan was scrutinized, Grace standing in the center of a beautiful kitchen containing white cabinets and gleaming granite countertops, counting out the unbelievable sum of nearly twenty thousand dollars in crisp hundred dollar bills. Stunned, Grace wondered what on earth inspired that vampire to be so kind – or Cairbre for that matter. That odd duo thought of everything, right down to packing her bathing suits and the power adapter for her computer – the two most important things Grace knew she'd need – the sun and a way to stay sane by connecting to the outside world.

Darkness fell, along with renewed tears and the first of many raindrops as Grace got settled. A broken heart calling out to the heavens above her to share her pain as Grace struggled through a torturous bath, every trace of dirt she washed from her skin a tragic reminder of her descent off that terrace, her mind burning with raging thoughts of everything said on that terrace, of every memory she recovered while sitting on that balcony. The drive had been torturous, her mind racing during all those lonely hours on the road, unable to reconcile the strange events and unbelievable images that tore through her mind. Nuada betrayed her with that whore, but that was only the beginning. While he offered comfort for her pain, he had participated in whatever Lord Niall was having done to her, and it was a distance in emotions her heart and mind simply could not span.

Now standing in that bathroom, Grace stared at the sad creature in the mirror. The cloak of desperation had faded into a fog of despair surrounding very her soul, as dense as a rain cloud, as infinite as the horizon. Tears too numerous to count had left her face red and swollen, big black circles marked the flesh under her eyes, and those very eyes looked empty and haunted. That terrible image of a tortured soul was all she had – all she was. Grace was alone, completely alone, and she wondered how long she would stay that way.

Sleep was never going to come, so with clean skin and clean clothes, Grace wandered out to the balcony, huddling under the eaves to protect herself from the rain she herself was causing, staring at the ocean as if willing it to speak to her, tell her anything that could quiet her raging mind. It was the wee hours of the morning when Grace found herself standing in the dim glow of the yard light, a soft rain soaking her to the bone as she walked around and around that gleaming black Jaguar, almost as if willing its owner to appear before her. Trembling fingertips traced the perfect indention of Nuada's hand pressed into the metal, a shattered heart trying to comprehend his actions, wondering what he would have done to her if that fist had impacted glass instead of metal. Tears ran unchecked down swollen cheeks, Grace unable to contain her emotions, sinking to the concrete, clinging to a car in the darkness of a remote island and sobbing her heart out, wondering what she had ever done to deserve this life.

After spending most of the night on the driveway in front of the house, Grace finally made her way inside, soaking wet and miserable. Taking Logan's cell phone into her hand, she punched in a number she never dialed, calling Nuada for only the second time in her life. She got nothing, the mechanical voice that answered not even revealing if her muddled mind remembered the number correctly, and certainly not providing her with the comfort of that oddly accented voice she was so desperately seeking. Incapable of knowing Nuada's cell phone lay smashed into several hundred pieces on the floor in her very own home, Grace wandered into the nearest bedroom and cried herself to sleep, positive she had descended into hell.

In Los Angeles the next morning, one exhausted and irritable creature watched the sun rise over a breathtaking skyline, positive he woke up in it. Today was Tuesday . . . the day the sprites were coming. Seething, he literally hissed at Lord Niall across that gleaming expanse of mahogany. "You better keep those aggravating little fuckers away from me or I swear to the Valar I shall squash every last one of them!"

"Control yourself!" Niall growled under his breath. "You know this treaty negotiation has been scheduled for months. The very instant those papers are signed, they will be gone, and you can have your meeting with the guardians about Grace, but until then, I expect you to behave!"

Behave? Niall Brigant was telling a five thousand year old mercenary to behave? Out of his chair instantly, Nuada was absolutely ready to explode when Roxy came walking in, calmly handing Nuada the nights reports collected by the guardians searching for Grace. "Where the fuck is my new phone?" he yelled as she turned to walk out, seeing that it was not included.

"Downstairs being programmed. It will be up within the hour, the technician promised." she answered flatly. Roxy had seen Nuada this way before, although it was quite rare. The best thing to do was remain calm, and basically ignore him.

"If I have to go down and collect it, you will be searching for a new technician," Nuada warned viciously, his demeanor leaving no doubt his words were indeed sincere.

"You will do not such thing!" Niall snapped, his own nerves and disposition no better than Nuada's. "Now please . . . I am going to meet with King Nemir . . . take care of this ridiculous water sprite territory disagreement. If I call for you, I expect you to come in that room, and to be at your very best."

"Then you had better not call for me," Nuada answered with a snarl. He hated sprites just as badly as Glorfindel did, and at that very moment, he'd like to rip a few wings off and squash some himself . . . might actually be fun to crack a few of the little irritants off the wall just to hear them squeal . . .

"Nuada!" Niall hissed, clearing reading his thoughts. "These are relatives . . . and King Nemir is a very powerful creature. You really must stop this! I expect you to start taking part in these things."

Snorting in disgust, Nuada stared at him incredulously. Nothing that was two feet tall with bug eyes and big blue pointed ears was a relative of his! He'd pop Nemir's powerful little head off crown and all if that damn little sprite king came anywhere near him this day.

Finding Nuada's common reaction to the water sprites rather amusing, Lord Niall rose from the chair, headed for the door and the conference room, hoping this indeed did not take long and they could focus on the more pressing matter of Grace's disappearance. Placing a hand on the handle, he turned and gave Nuada a long look. "Did Grace honestly steal your car and try to run you over in it?"

The venom that came seeping from Nuada's very pores confirmed she did, and Lord Niall found himself completely incapable of hiding that classic fairy smirk. After all, fairies did enjoy a good raucous romp of good fun every now and then. "I always knew that girl was the one for you," he said with a smile, leaving before Nuada even had a chance to reply.

Simmering in a stew of pure rage, Nuada was none to happy when Roxy pushed the door back open before it even had a chance to close. "Nuada?" she called impatiently.

"Get out! Nuada retched furiously, slinging a stack of papers into the air in disgust, stalking through their gently wafting remains to stare out the window. "Just get out – leave me the hell alone! Nobody interrupts me today, not anyone, for anything!" he raged, actually pounding his fist against the wall as he screamed at her.

His tirade was met with momentary silence, then Roxy's snide voice came cutting across that huge office. "Very well . . . I will tell Grace on line four that you are not interested in speaking to her."

"I'm not taking any god damned calls . . ." Nuada immediately snapped, but that unbelievable message instantly captured him. "What did you say?" he asked, turning to stare at Roxy in stunned disbelief.

"I said that Grace is on line four, and she's probably pissed by now because you aren't answering it!" Roxy answered curtly, her dark brown eyes speaking volumes. She'd watched Nuada change dramatically over the past several months, and as much as Roxy might not care for Grace personally, she knew Nuada loved that strange little human with every fiber of his being. Besides, Grace was one of the few creatures in existence that could make Amarande Nuada smile . . . he needed to answer the phone . . . and calm the fuck down.

Making his way over to the desk, Nuada could indeed see that in addition to the variety of other lights on that telephone, line four was indeed blinking and on hold. Could it be true that Grace was on the other end? Lifting the receiver to his ear, Nuada pressed the button, the call being connected instantly.

"Erulissë? Meleth nín, are you there?" He held his breath, praying to hear her voice, but what he heard in return was little more than a soft sniffle, the sound of a soul crying on the other end and he knew indeed that it was Grace.

Praying the sound of the missing girl's voice would ease his temper, Roxy offered a kind look and headed for the door, only to be stopped by Nuada's frantically waving his arm at her. Taking a piece of paper, he wrote a very simple message, then held it up for her to see.

TRACE THIS CALL.

She nodded, and he turned his attentions back to that phone. "Erulissë, please speak to me . . . where are you?" His tormented voice begged.

"Nuada . . ." Grace said softly, causing his heart to both break and soar. Nuada was thrilled she had called, amazed she had been so creative as to reach him in Los Angeles, but her voice sounded so sad it terrified him.

"A'maelamin Erulissë, saes please I beg you tell me where you are so I might come to you." His velvety voice was pleading, and Grace wanted to so bad she ached.

"No . . . I'm not telling you where I am," she managed through her tears, "but I . . . I . . . I needed to hear your voice Nuada . . . I was so afraid I hurt you last night." Grace began sobbing into the phone, devastated by what she had done. The very idea of nearly hitting him with that car was driving her insane . . . it was the last thing on her mind when her eyes finally closed last night, and the very first thing on it when they opened again this morning.

Nuada shook his head in disbelief. Not only was Grace worried that he have something to drive, with everything she was facing, that odd little human was still more concerned about him than herself. They were some of the sweetest words Amarande Nuada had ever heard.

"Erulissë, I am not injured," he told her gently, desperate to make the crying stop. "Saes, please now you must calm yourself. Last night is of no importance now . . . what is important is you. Now, please tell me . . . where have you gone? What can I do to fix these things and bring you home again?"

"Why isn't your phone working? I tried calling you last night," Grace whimpered, sniffling into the phone.

Grace was ignoring his questions and Nuada knew it, but he would gladly humor her, anything to keep Grace on the line. "I was angry and I broke it, but I am getting a new one shortly. It will have the same number, you may call me as often as you wish," Nuada answered kindly.

She did not respond, only sniffled.

"And how did you get this number? What made you think I would be here this morning?" He asked curiously, trying to keep her talking.

The longest pause ensued, and Nuada wondered if Grace would answer him at all. "I got the number from the Shreveport office," she finally answered, her voice falling to nearly a whisper, "and I knew you were there, because I can feel you . . . you are hurting."

Sinking into his chair, Nuada could hardly believe her words. Indeed, their interaction last night had been different . . . he had felt Grace trying to take hold of him, yet she had been unable to . . . and this morning his skin was covered in small scratches, no doubt because hers was after landing in those huge bushes . . . and now she claimed to feel his pain, knew where he was . . . yet she wore the blocking ring. What had changed between them?

"Mae, yes Erulissë you are correct. I am hurting . . . I do not understand why you have done this thing. Do you not trust me to protect you, to keep you safe? What have I done to deserve this? Please talk to me Erulissë," he begged. "Make me understand."

What did he do to deserve this? Shouldn't that be - what the fuck did she do to deserve this?

Grace sat there, suddenly furious at the beautiful creature who had helped to cause her so much pain, overcome with disappointment and anger, images of Nuada slamming himself into that damn werewolf whore making her nauseous all over again, visions of his broken body hitting those metal bars making her weak, thoughts of him holding her down while that light burnt her making her want to slap him until his teeth rattled in his head. Just hearing the words protect and safe cross his lips made Grace want to scream until his head exploded.

"Make you understand?" Grace suddenly hissed into that receiver. "Why don't you try making me understand? You're the one who helped do this shit to me . . . you're the one who owes me answers, not the other way around!"

Nuada frowned desperately – he was trying to apologize and soothe her, but instead he had just pissed her off again – and he had such a laundry list of items to explain and apologize for, he honestly didn't know where to start. Obviously, making her madder wasn't the correct place. "I will explain anything that might repair this thing between us," he offered in his most soothing tone, praying she would listen. "Please Erulissë . . . tell me what you want to hear me say."

"You've done so many things to hurt me, I wouldn't know where to start," Grace answered coldly.

"Then accept my apologies for each and every one," Nuada begged. "Saes, please Erulissë . . . a telephone line is no place to discuss such matters! I need to see you, hold you . . . look at you and tell you that I love you. Please allow me to come to your side, I will answer your every question, explain anything that will bring you home to me. "

"Love? That word makes me nauseous!" Grace snarled over the gentle roll of ocean waves. "You can't love me – it isn't possible, and I know that for a fact! Lord Elrond warned me about your kind . . . love isn't possible between and elf and a human . . . and elves don't lie. And even if you could, you don't! Every word out of your mouth has been a lie . . . you've been paid to pretend you cared to keep me in line . . . so ya'll could use me for some fucked up fairy experiment!"

Everything she'd endured, every memory, every word Grace heard on that terrace came crashing down on top of her as she fought to get those words out . . . a fucked up fairy experiment . . . was that not what she was to Niall and Nuada? Completely overwhelmed with emotion, Grace broke down completely, sobbing in the phone uncontrollably, tempted to hang up the phone instead of subjecting herself to any further pain by his hand.

Her weeping sounds were some of the most pitiful Nuada had heard in centuries, and his throat grew tighter with every sob. Crying creatures usually did no more than irritate or amuse him, but hearing them from Grace nearly ripped his soul out. "Erulissë I swear to the very Valar above, I do love you," Nuada told her firmly.

"Liar!" she screamed, a wretched sobbed scream of pure pain.

"That is not a lie Erulissë. As I told you at Imladris, as I will continue to tell you so many times as it takes for you to hear me, I love you Erulissë . . . Le Melon Erulissë . . . Je t'aime . . .Ti amo . . . Ich liebe Dich . . . Ik houd van u. . . Eu te amo . . . Te quiero! I shall tell you in any language you wish to hear it . . . I love you, and I shall never stop loving you! I cannot take back the terrible things I have done to you, but I shall apologize every day for the rest of my life if that if what it takes to receive your forgiveness. Liquor turned me into a drunken and jealous idiot who believed ill of you and turned another for comfort, but pleasures of the flesh are not pleasures of the heart, and my heart belongs to you Erulissë. Lasto! Listen to me, Meleth nín, tell me where you are . . . come back to me! Let me love you saes, please!"

Grace sat there wanting more than the air she breathed to believe Nuada. "If I come back, you'll just give me back to Lord Niall," she finally told him in a tiny fragile voice, positive it was the truth.

"Erulissë saes Edro gûr lín , please open your heart and hear my words. Lord Niall will never bring harm to you again! Upon my life I swear that no pain shall ever come your way again." Nuada was begging, pleading with Grace to listen, praying she would give him any hint of where she was.

"It's a little late to be promising no harms gonna come to me don't you think?" Grace asked quietly. "Or when I took those memories from your mind did it make you forget what happened to us in that god awful place?"

"Nothing is forgotten to me Erulissë, you simply do not understand the things that you remember. We have spoken of such matters before . . . I am your guardian Erulissë, and I am the man who loves you! There is no cause to be frightened of anything ever again. If you were scared you should have trusted me enough to come to me, not run away from me! Before I ever allowed any harm to come your way – even by the hand of Lord Niall - I would gladly hide you away myself." Nuada was being as persuasive as that ancient soul could muster, but it was just not working.

"If you wanted me not to be scared, you shouldn't have been threatening to beat the fucking windows out the car and drag me through them last night! And I already went against everything I knew was right to trust you once Nuada, and just look where the fuck it's gotten me!" Grace growled out, not so subtly reminding him of their previous conversation at Christmas time when Nuada threatened her - if she didn't trust him, he'd leave.

"Erulissë, I was angry and did not want you to leave. I would never harm you," Nuada assured her gently.

"Yeah? Well save your breath, Nuada. . . you don't have to worry about threatening to drag me out of cars or leave me because I don't trust you ever again. I'm already gone." She told him sarcastically.

"Saes, please Erulissë . . . give me another chance to make things right between us. You can trust me, I swear it on my very life," Nuada told her, desperate to make her believe him.

"I'm sorry Nuada . . . I don't know if I'll ever trust you again," Grace answered in a broken whisper, then the line went dead.

Leaning back in an expensive leather office chair in that damn elaborate office in Los Angeles, Nuada hands found his temples as he closed his eyes, feeling like someone just hit him over the head with a 2x4. Grace stayed hidden ten days at Christmas in retaliation for his stupid threat, somehow managing to stay hidden right under his nose in Shreveport. This time he was positive she wasn't even in the state anymore, she was enraged with him over the recovered memories of Facility Four, and she had that damn magic cloaking ring . . . there was no telling how long she could stay hidden this time . . . she might never come back.

Emerald eyes full of pain were still closed when the door of Nuada's office was opened yet again, an entire flock of tiny intruders silently making their way to stand in front of the gleaming expanse of wood he was seated behind.

"Nuada?" a gentle voice called, sounding very much like the sound of running water, easing against his ears.

Opening his eyes, Nuada saw nothing, but when he leaned up to peer over the edge of his desk he was met with a virtual sea of water sprites . . . a huge group of the little bug eyed creatures staring up at him . . . two of which were wearing ornate little crowns on their heads. It was King Nemir and Queen Alatáriël Ar-Feiniel, and all their faithful little peon helpers. Fighting back pure nausea, Nuada suddenly found himself wishing he had a real 2x4 . . . he could use it to swat them. Unfortunately, Lord Niall came easing in behind them, and the Lord of the Fairies wouldn't take that very well, guaranteed.

"Nuada," King Nemir's soothing voice continued, "Lord Niall has explained the strange message we received last night concerning the missing girl. Please know that should your Erulissë touch a water source within our reach, she will become known to you."

Thanks to Lord Niall's warning glare, Nuada's face was carefully blank, although at that very moment he was imagining squeezing each and every one of those little creatures until their bug eyes popped right out . . . wonder what kind of sound they would make if he stomped one?

"Many thanks, King Nemir." Nuada answered, fighting to keep his voice even. "I fear Erulissë prefers the ocean, but perhaps she will deviate from that preference at some point." Fat chance, he silently added to himself, secretly wondering what Grace would do if she saw one of the little bug eyed bastards. Suddenly the image of Grace dipping her feet off the edge of a dock and being confronted by a water sprite went dancing through Nuada's head and he had to suppress a snicker . . . he could guess who'd win that fight.

"Oh! Then perhaps a word with Tîwele would assist?" Queen Alatáriël offered generously. "We are having lunch on Friday!"

Nuada looked over at the sprite queen like she was a fungus growing on his fancy patterned carpet, as Lord Niall smoothly interrupting. "Tîwele is one of King Neptune's daughters."

Not even believing what he was hearing, Nuada just shut his mouth, praying he could keep it that way until that swarm of obnoxious and malodorous little creatures exited. Unfortunately, water sprites liked Nuada . . . the females particularly . . . and a whole group of them had now oozed around his desk to stare up at his perfect porcelain features in sheer adoration, those huge blue eyes never blinking, tiny little sighs of pure contentment easing under their breath. Nuada blanched. If those little critters found Grace before he did, he deserved to be beheaded . . . and if one of those nasty little things touched him, he was gonna hurl.

Sensing he was reaching his breaking point, Lord Niall thankfully herded them out, pointing them toward the elevators where they would be secretly spirited away. Poor Nuada, finally left alone in peace, he rose from his desk only to find his feet squelching on suddenly wet carpet thanks to the water sprites, and his delicate nasal passages being assaulted by the lingering odor of fish. Positive this day could not possibly get worse, he managed to grimace his way to the wet bar and chug down a huge glass of Crown Royal, only to fill it again. It wasn't even noon yet.

What else could possibly go wrong today?


	40. Knock, Knock

Chapter 40 – Knock, Knock – Who's There?

 _Day Two of Grace's Disappearance_

 **** Knock . . . knock . . . knock ****

"Who is it?" Nuada snarled in irritation.

"They're waiting for you," Roxy told him patiently. Ignoring his venomous glare, she casually walked over to the gleaming expanse of mahogany and very pointedly took the glass of Crown Royal from his hand, crossing the room and pouring it down the sink. Filling it with water, she casually replaced it on his desk, along with a new BlackBerry.

The unpleasant news his assistant came to deliver was saved until she was already half way out the door. "The call could not be traced . . . Grace blocked the number," Roxy told him hesitantly, hearing the glass shatter against the door just as it closed behind her.

Everyone visibly cringed when Nuada came stalking into that conference room less than five minutes later. The faintest scent of thick fresh water and pond creatures lingered on the air, but that smell was nothing compared to the palpable fury Nuada rolled in with him, and every head turned to watch as that intimidating creature made his entrance. Amarande Nuada was not known in every realm as the best mercenary to draw breath just because . . . the title belonged to Nuada because he earned it . . . and woe be unto the creature that came between him and his appointed task, which at that particular moment just so happened to be finding the woman he loved.

As ordered, an elite hand picked accompaniment of twelve fairy guardians was assembled at that conference table waiting for his instructions, and they certainly got them. Nuada was barking out commands before the door closed behind him, stalking around the room as he growled out a checklist of items he wanted to see . . . things he wanted done . . . cell phone records, bank account monitoring, credit cards . . . who was checking her social security number . . . all calls to Trey Lockhardt's home and business, Sookie Stackhouse and his own phone were to be tracked . . . guardian's needed to be assigned to certain locations . . . and he wanted her damn email accounts ripped apart right now!

Papers flew as guardians ripped through piles of papers, that entire team of a dozen creatures having recently returned from ransacking Grace's little white house in Shreveport. They'd even been through her trash, noting every scrap of paper, every sticky note that cluttered her desk, but there was simply nothing to find . . . nothing to indicate her departure was planned by Grace in any way . . . and it made absolutely no sense. Why would she have had the ring with her at that time, and how the hell did she manage to get transported out of the elven realm?

"Siniath feyg!" Nuada hissed, stopping to glance from paper pile to paper pile. "There is nothing here! Nothing!"

"If we had her computer, we might find more, but it is gone," one of the guardians pointed out. "Do you know any of her other email addresses? Remember anything on the paperwork from the office when you worked together? All I collected from her desk was what I interpret to be a work email . . . surely there is at least one personal account."

Forcing himself to concentrate, Nuada thought hard. He did not use a computer, and knew little of email addresses, nor could he appreciate the vast variety of computer identities most people retained. Snatching the papers the guardian offered, he instantly recognized the now familiar notation of her email from paperwork he'd seen in meetings with Alcide Herveaux, knowing "IslandDesigner" was the account Grace used for business. Who would have her personal email?

Fingers flew over the face of a new BlackBerry as Nuada quickly called Eric Northman, positive after yesterday's episode if he dialed Sookie Stackhouse he'd probably get his ear chewed off. Never did Nuada imagine he'd be thankful for those sarcastic emails Grace felt compelled to send Eric . . . but five minutes later, Nuada now had Grace's personal email. Unfortunately, after filling Eric in on the lack of progress made toward finding Grace, he also had one highly pissed off friend.

When Nuada hung up that BlackBerry, he laid into those guardians like a man possessed, raking them for wasting two days and not producing a single lead for him to follow towards finding Grace. Answering Eric's questions as to progress forced that stunning blond to face a harsh reality . . . he didn't have a clue where Grace had gone . . . hell, he didn't even know what state to search yet! And just as Nuada tore into those fairies, Eric Northman flew all over Sookie Stackhouse, tearing into her unsuspecting southern ass like white on rice the instant she answered that phone.

"Nuada tells me you won't talk to him about Grace!" Eric snapped viciously, his voice almost evil sounding he was so angry. "And we both know she called you after she left Sookie . . .that little hellion chatted her head off . . . Nuada said you were on the phone for 72 minutes! That's over an hour! Who are you trying to kid here? Grace has a big mouth, and so do you . . . I know that girl said something, anything to tell you where she was heading!"

It's too bad Eric didn't have to breathe, because he would've had to stop for air somewhere in that tirade, but he didn't need air, and he didn't relent either. "Nuada is out of his mind worried about that girl, and so am I. What on earth is she thinking? Where could Grace possibly have run off to this time? Have you checked that damn hotel she stayed at the last time? Has she gone back there again? Why did Grace take that damn car? And do you know what I am going to do to her when she gets back for trying to run over me and Nuada in that thing!"

Thankfully Eric finally shut up, at least for a moment, so Sookie could get a word in. In Louisiana, her head didn't feel any better than Grace's did in Texas, and she was of the same mindset as her cousin. Back the fuck off.

"I. Do. Not. Know." Sookie snapped right back at Eric, realizing the southern stupid disease must be going around. First Niall and Nuada yesterday, now Eric tonight! "Grace didn't tell me anything on that phone, and she hasn't called me today . . . but I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told your best friend Nuada and my smartass great-grandfather! Until I find out what the hell happened to scare Grace into leaving, I'm not telling anybody a damn thing! The only person I'm talking to about Grace, is GRACE!"

"The hell you won't!" Eric screamed, actually jerking his feet off the corner of his desk in Fangtasia so he could stand up and yell louder. "If you know one thing about where your damn cousin is, you better open your mouth and start talking. I don't give a shit if you never talk to Lord Niall again, but you will damn well tell me everything you know and you'll do it right fucking now!" That vampire's voice was bellowing through that office, seeping through the door and echoing down the hallway. He was yelling so loud, Pam actually came to check on him, wondering what on earth was happening . . . Eric Northman never, ever yelled like that . . . and Eric Northman never conceived that Sookie Stackhouse wouldn't trust him either – it was a wake up call of monumental proportions!

"You bite my ass Eric!" Sookie screeched right back at him, more than ready to take out her own broken emotions on somebody by this time. "What was that shit in my yard Sunday night huh? Sneaking up behind that car, almost scaring us both to death, Nuada threatening Grace like that? What the hell do ya'll expect from the damn girl? She's thinks Nuada is trying to kill her, and I'm beginning to wonder about that myself!"

"Funny you should say that . . ." Eric hissed right back, "considering Grace almost killed me, then tried to run over Nuada with his own god damned car!"

"You and Nuada can both fuck off Eric Northman . . . and Grace couldn't have killed you, you idiot! You're already dead!" Sookie screamed in return, stealing a line from her cousin before slamming that phone down.

Eric flew into a complete rage after he hung up that phone, throwing things all over his office as he pitched a true hell bent fit. He could not believe the strange situation he'd managed to get himself trapped in, and he didn't know how in hell he was gonna get himself out.

In Los Angeles, Nuada concurred with his best friend's feelings exactly, and that mercenary was about to throw a little fit of his own. Turning away from the wall sized United States map to once again address the guardians frantically working at that table, Nuada found his private meeting rudely interrupted, and it set his very soul on fire. Venomous green eyes exploded with flames as they ran over that conference table . . . there was a damn little pixie prince standing right in the damn middle of it . . . and he was having a casual conversation with Lord Naill!

Nuada shouldn't have been surprised. Like the water sprites, every supernatural fey creature in the earthen realm had now received word of Lord Niall's request for help, and that request was not taken lightly. A plea to find the lost great-granddaughter of the fairy lord himself? Magnificent! It was like a supernatural scavenger hunt, a top secret tromp for treasure through the earth realm, a fantastic game of human hide and seek . . . and games were something every fey creature truly did enjoy! Not only that - surely the reward for finding the girl would be great – most definitely enough incentive for each and every form of pointy eared critter on earth to get involved!

That pixie prince was no different, personally delivering his deepest condolences to Lord Niall along with the solemn promise that the pixies would do everything possible to assist in finding Grace. Unfortunately, there was just one little problem with that. This search was being headed by Amarande Nuada, and that mercenary he did not intend to allow anything or anyone interrupt what HE was doing . . . nor did he intend for HIS meeting of HIS team in HIS conference room to be interrupted!

"Amman nach hí?" Nuada demanded viciously. "Get out!"

Turning to see who was addressing him so rudely, Prince Fosster had an instant reaction to the sight of Nuada, and it was not a pleasant one. While Nuada did not hate the fey to the extent Glorfindel did, he was not particularly fond of certain varieties either, and the pixies fell squarely within that group. Nuada hadn't just contemplated swatting the little winged critters before . . . one a few choice occasions, he'd actually caved in and done it.

Only a foot tall at best, that pixie began to chatter like a stressed out squirrel on sugar overload, filling the conference room with the most annoying high pitched squeaking sound imaginable. Pixie dust flew, tiny silver and gold specks flying from his iridescent wings as tiny viridian arms flailed, that perturbed pixie prince pacing to and fro in front of Lord Niall, once again reciting the horrible day Nuada insulted him, actually trounced him off a toadstool before bouncing him off an ancient oak like a tennis ball. Flinging enough scintillating sparkles into the air to make people start sneezing, he planted his teensy little feet and pointed a miniscule finger toward Nuada.

"Asshole!" he squeaked, using one of his favorite English words.

Nuada seethed, his politeness cache already rendered empty for the day. Picking up a thick file folder with the sole intention of smashing his rude little ranting ass to oblivion, Nuada found his actions arrested by Lord Niall's insistent throat clearing. Silent mental threats were thrown between them, Niall insisting Nuada respectfully receive his well deserved and long overdue berating from Prince Fosster . . . after all, the little guy had just come to offer his help . . . and he'd been waiting for decades to tell Nuada what he thought of him.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Prince Fosster had a little more in mind that just mouthing, and a dozen fairy guardians and one Fairy Lord watched in stunned disbelief as that pixie paraded across the table toward Nuada like he was strutting down the royal castle halls themselves, that tiny jeweled crown on his head no bigger than the face of Nuada's rolex, a magnificent embroidered little cape that couldn't have been more than six inches long flaring out behind him. Chattering like a cicada bug that pixie unceremoniously crawled right up in Nuada's perfect porcelain face, stomped him on the finger, then reached over and enthusiastically ripped out two tiny handfuls of arm hair.

Now mind you, Nuada was of very little body hair, but that pixie dug deep, painfully wrenching out a few miniscule wisps right by the roots. Undeterred by that venomous glare he was receiving, that arrogant little antagonist reached up and threw them right at Nuada's nose, dissolving into a fit of fervent fairy laughter when he did. Unfortunately, Nuada found very few things to be funny, and being physically assaulted by a damn pixie prince was certainly no exception.

It didn't happen often, but as the tiny little hairs floated down in front of his face, Nuada completely lost his composure . . . the woman he loved was gone, that obnoxious little green bastard just interrupted his meeting and attacked him, and it smelled like fucking fish in that conference room! Faster than the eye could follow, an elegant alabaster hand with a throbbing finger clamped the diminutive creature round the middle, squeezing him until the saddest little smothered shriek was emitted . . . something so pitiful even Roxy came running. It sounded like the air being let out of a balloon . . . eeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwwww.

The poor pixie quickly passed out from lack of air, but no one panicked . . . they were tough little buggers. Instead, Niall calmly demanded Nuada release him, but that infuriated mercenary wasn't quite ready to comply with that command. The water sprites had already pushed his buttons that morning, and by god no more big eared, bug eyed intruders were gonna bother Amarande Nuada today, of that everyone could rest assured.

Surprised at the rapid turn of events, everyone in that room watched with growing horror and humor as Nuada suffered a mental breakdown of monumental proportions . . . all at that fairy's expense. Typically such a stoic and steady soul, Amarande Nuada was anything but when he got truly aggravated, and at that particular moment he went berserk. Clutching a fairy in one hand and a file folder in the other, Nuada retched out a wild stream of vulgarities, then threw his hands in the air, raining down a flurry of floating white papers and pixie dust all over everyone.

Poor Prince Fosster . . . that unfortunate creature didn't know what the hell had hold of him, the feeble fist bound fairy involuntarily being taken on the ride of his life, tiny little limp arms and legs flying in every direction. Finding himself being flung violently to and fro, the powerless prince felt very much like he'd been tossed into a washing machine – something devious little pixies did to one another from time to time – but all he could do was hang on for dear life and pray he wouldn't suffer motion sickness before this odd rollercoaster ride ended. Unfortunately, Prince Fosster lost that fight, because about five minutes into Nuada's fit, that mercenary screeched out a string of profanities at Lord Niall and shook that pixie until his brain rattled, and when he did, that poor pixie puked . . . right on Nuada.

It wasn't funny . . . it truly wasn't . . . but fourteen stunned supernatural creatures could only watch and wonder what would happen next as Nuada froze in place, watching in disbelief as putrid thick green pixie puke dripped down the sleeve of his perfectly pressed black silk shirt. Thankfully, Roxy had arrived by this time, and as a table full of silently snickering supernatural creatures watched, the creative office assistance came up with an impromptu trade, quickly offering Nuada a brimming glass of chilled Crown Royal in return for his reluctant release of the woeful winged creature in his grasp.

Rarely did Nuada let his temper show, but every creature in that room including Lord Niall was wary of him when Nuada lifted his eyes from that shirt sleeve to face his assistant, because his glimmering green eyes had turned completely red. "I don't want a god damned drink!" he screamed in Roxy's face, unceremoniously smacking that poor decimated critter down on the table hard enough to break every bone in his light green little body. "I want Erulissë returned to me . . . now!"

Silence fell over the conference room, the stillness broken only by the strange metallic sound of a tiny crown rolling across the tabletop, finally landing with a tiny little "pling" against someone's file folder. Brilliant specks of pixie dust floated down, shimmering underneath the brilliant fluorescent lights, and underneath it all was the most pitiful sight . . . that tiny little naked body sprawled out across the gleaming wood . . . the minute murmured moans seeping out of Lilliputian lips. Fosster the forest pixie hadn't handed Amarande Nuada his comeuppance this Tuesday afternoon, but he'd sure as hell received his, instantly reduced from parading prince to flattened frog, looking very much like road kill squashed on a scorched Louisiana highway.

"Get that thing off my fucking conference table or I will," Nuada growled out, already unbuttoning his shirt as he crossed the room, then kicking the door completely off the hinges before heading for the bathroom down the hall.

Savan was summoned in Nuada's absence, casually collecting the pitiful pixie from the table as if it were the most commonplace thing . . . and it was. The tenacious little pests were forever getting themselves into something! Clutching the poor creature in gentle hands, the powerful healer made an instant assessment, relieved no permanent damage had been done, then insincerely berating Niall for allowing the naturally antagonist little creature to agitate Nuada. Savan knew the stress the mercenary was under, and while he would never publicly admit it, those irritating little pixies even got on his nerves . . . he wouldn't mind smacking one himself! Thankfully, Savan quickly disappeared, promising to erase the poor little fellow's memory and return him home.

The magnificent moonlit healer's exit was met with Nuada's reentrance, and his presence this time was even more impressive than the first go round. Now dressed in his unrelieved black battle attire, Nuada stalked to the map at the front of that conference room and buried his war blade right through the center South Carolina. Turning on his heel, emerald eyes still ringed in red burned with a poisonous warning, a demonic voice assuring each and every guardian in that room if they didn't help produce Grace and fast, the condition of that pixie prince would be a compliment compared to what he did to them.

 **** Knock . . . knock . . . knock ****

"Hello? Grace . . . are you in there?"

A sad swollen face turned to look through the darkness of an unfamiliar house with no power, a muddled mind incapable of digesting the odd sight lingering on the other side of a screen door, clouded and painful eyes showing a blurry and strange image.

"Nuada?" Grace murmured, seeing the outline of a tall lean form with long hair silhouetted against the weathered gray wall behind him.

"No . . . my name is Valentin Jaus," the man told her kindly. "Now might I come in from this terrible storm and speak with you a moment?"

His voice sounded odd, although it was barely audible over the pounding rain, rolling thunder and racing winds battering themselves against that beach house. Grace wasn't responsible for this violent rash of weather . . . yes, it tended to rain when she cried . . . but she was far beyond that point by now. The despondent human girl had absolutely nothing to do with the line of fierce squalls throwing everything they had against that small speck of dirt called South Padre Island, but mother nature certainly did, and she seemed determined to outdo herself tonight.

"I mean you no harm, the man offered sincerely, raising his voice so she could hear him over the din of the howling wind. "I am Logan's brother. He told me you would be arriving sometime last evening, and asked me to come and check on you. Now please . . . the weather is terrible tonight, and this part of the island is quite desolate. You must be frightened here all alone without power, or so much as a candle."

Mentally incapacitated, Grace stared toward the door. Her head was pounding to the point of leaving her shoulders, her eyes blurry and swollen from crying all night, and of all the times to be faced with another well intentioned vampire, this was certainly not the best one. Brilliant flashes of lightening and a quick glance out the nearest window revealed what appeared to be a new black Range Rover in the drive behind Nuada's car, and the familiarity put chills down her spine. Wondering if this was nothing more than a guardian in disguise trying to trick her somehow, Grace was already beginning to trace with light blue flickers by the time she stepped behind that kitchen island for protection.

"You will not come inside this house until you show me your ears," Grace said firmly.

"Excuse me?"

"If you walk through this door, you show me your ears. I'm sorry, but those are the rules of this house so long as I'm in it."

Valentin Jaus looked through that door at Grace like she was completely insane. This was nothing more than a friendly gesture of concern, and now this tiny little human woman was staring him down over the threshold of his own personal beach house like she was going to tear him apart while demanding to see his ears! Hump! Seeing that Grace was completely serious in her demand, a finely boned hand finally found its way to carefully tuck long blond hair behind one perfectly normal and non-pointed ear, Jaus saying nothing. He simply gave Grace a very inquisitive look, wondering if she was now satisfied.

She wasn't. The house was completely dark, save the slight glow coming from her computer screen and the occasional burst of lightening, and Grace couldn't tell one thing about that man's ear in the dark. All her scared soul could do was hope and pray if he was willing to make the effort, the ear was a normal one. Unfortunately, his next actions did little to help because as Grace watched, Valentin Jaus casually opened the door and stepped inside.

Grace reacted instantly, fear grabbing hold of her, the terrified human girl positive that was a fairy guardian who'd just lied his way into that house. Every step Jaus took was met by a countering one from Grace in the opposite direction, and blue flickers burned beneath her skin as her unsteady voice came cutting across that kitchen. "If you're a vampire, how did you just come into this house? Why didn't I have to invite you in?"

"Because this is my house," Jaus answered nonchalantly in a soothing tone, heading across the kitchen with perfect familiarity, opening a closet door and flipping a series of switches. "Or to be perfectly honest, it is belongs to Logan and I both, although he has only seen it twice. We bought it as an investment property, and before you ask, no you are not intruding. You are welcome to stay here for so long as you desire. Our home is your home."

By the time he finished talking, power was restored, and Jaus flipped on the kitchen lights, turning to face her as he did. In that instant, Grace forced the flames away, feeling her mouth fall open in complete surprise . . . no, there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever that was Logan's brother. Grace was as shocked as she'd been in a very long time.

"You may say it . . . you will not offend me," Jaus told her with a mischievous grin. He spoke with a very heavy European accent of some type that Grace couldn't place, although his English was perfect, and Grace could only surmise the difference in voices between the two brothers was due to being apart for many, many years.

"You're . . . you're . . ." Grace stammered.

"Twins," Jaus finished for her. "Yes, Logan and I are twins, although I fear we see little of each other . . . travel can be a hindrance these days you know."

While he was explaining, Jaus was carefully looking over Grace, sizing her up, and smelling her. Logan warned him the human girl's scent was quite appealing, and boy was it. It wasn't unbearable, but she made his fangs ache from clear across the room . . . she was very lucky that Valentin Jaus was old and experienced enough to control himself. Running his eyes over the exposed portions of her body, Jaus could clearly see the huge scar that told him this girl had already been attacked severely at some point in her life by one of his kind, and it irked him to no end.

Grace was taking a very careful look at that vampire herself, because she was seeing it, but she wasn't believing it . . . human twins yes . . . but vampire twins? Holy shit - who'd have imagined that! Curious grey eyes ran an intense and appreciative look over the vampire standing across that room from her, Grace carefully taking in every inch. Logan was one damn fine looking creature, and Valentin Jaus was a carbon copy of Logan right down to the eyelashes, only everything had been kicked up a notch. The blond hair was a shade deeper and several inches longer, Jaus seemed just a fraction better looking, a tad more intense . . . the muscles a twitch tighter, the legs a half inch longer. Mother of God did he look good.

"Have you acclimated yourself to the house, or would you like for me to give you a tour?" Jaus prodded politely, hoping to wrench Grace's stunned brain out of the obvious and very frank physical assessment she was giving him.

Returning her mind to the present, Grace instantly feel like an ass for being inside this man's house, and her uncertainly clearly showed on her face. Opening her mouth to begin apologizing both for intruding and for being rude by not inviting him in, Grace got the hand - the vampire hand - silencing her very much the same way she and Sookie playfully shushed each other back home.

"I will accept neither apologies nor compensation from you, so do not offer it, you will offend me. You are a friend of Logan, and therefore a friend of mine. We will gladly provide you with every assistance possible so long as you need it, and I will hear no arguments. Understood?" His voice was polite, gentle in delivery, but quite firm in it's meaning even still.

"Alright," Grace finally murmured in acknowledgement, having to search for her lost voice, still trying to recover from the mind-boggling sight of him. She didn't get the impression he was much open to arguing about that fact anyway.

"Where do you stay?" she suddenly asked, the idea of unexpectedly finding herself faced with another impromptu – albeit damn good looking - male roommate absolutely out of the question!

Jaus smiled softly, almost as if reading her thoughts. "My house is on the mainland. It's less than an hour away, although I don't come to the island often myself . . . sand and sun are not the best combination for my kind . . . don't you agree? Now, I'm going to leave you my private number, so if you need anything, just call." He slipped a business card from his pocket, crossing the room to slide it across the counter as he was talking, taking careful note of Grace's condition . . . the glassy eyes and red swollen cheeks.

"Given your situation, I'd recommend you stay close to the house and on the island, at least until you see how things settle over the next few days. It's very secluded here, and you're on the farthest end so no one will bother you." His speckled green eyes were kind, just like Logan's, the obvious concern showing in his voice. "You're safe here Grace, so take your time, sort things out . . . get yourself back together."

"I don't know how to thank you or Logan," Grace offered sincerely, twisting her hands nervously.

"Do not be nervous of me Grace," Jaus reassured her. "I would never harm you."

The words struck a little too close to home, reminding her of what Nuada said on the phone earlier, and Grace couldn't help the new tears that came tracing down her cheeks. Watching her cry, Jaus shook his head softly. Logan had filled him in on everything he knew, and the vampire did not envy the human girl her troubles. He could not help the sympathetic look he passed toward Grace. Snot was not a good look on anyone.

Taking in his expression, Grace felt totally embarrassed, self-consciously covering her face with her hands. "I must really look like shit," she thought to herself, knowing when you got the pitiful stare from a dead man, you were really bad off.

Sensing her discomfort, Jaus smoothly ignored her pouring nose and running eyes. Instead, he patiently and politely showed her how to shut off the emergency generator once the power was restored, showing Grace the various switches in the closet, then giving her a brief overview of the island and where she might find places to get food and buy necessities. Heading for the door, Jaus turned and gave Grace another coldly assessing look, wondering if half the things Logan told him were true. He found himself flirting with the idea of how valuable the human sitting in his own house was to those fairies . . . and contemplating what lengths they might go to in order to get her back.

Valentin Jaus would back his brother to the end, but damn what had Logan gotten their asses into this time?

 **** Knock . . . knock . . . knock ****

Standing by the huge windows of his Los Angeles corner penthouse office, Nuada took in the dramatic nightscape of Los Angeles, although he found himself incapable of finding any beauty in it tonight. Lost in pleasant memories, he did not acknowledge the gentle tapping on the door, choosing instead to concentrate on the slowly fading coral rose in his hand. Delicate fingertips brushed velvety petals against his nose, a mind returning to happier moments, wishing for a way to roll back time.

 _Eric Northman had surprised Grace that spring day in mid-March, an entire landscaping crew showing up at her little white house in Shreveport to put in flowerbeds. Nuada and Sookie had both mentioned Grace wanting a rose garden, and as thanks for all the work she'd done on that magnificent house he was building for Sookie, the vampire certainly felt she deserved a reward._

Nuada knew they were coming, but he'd lingering in bed that morning, cradling that delicious human warmth to his chest, enjoying the delicate smell of Grace's hair nuzzled against his nose for as long as possible. Only the sound of strange voices outside had pulled him from her side, forcing Nuada to reluctantly pull on clothes in preparation of providing instructions. Even knowing he was needed didn't stop Nuada from returning to gently ease down beside her again, gentle hands brushing away feathers of dark hair, even the sight of Grace sleeping enough to shorten his breath and force his heart to flutter. He'd leaned down, brushing the faintest of kisses against a bronze cheek, reveling in the faint smile that traced across her face.

Her startled expression had been priceless when Grace came tentatively easing around the corner of the house an hour later, fresh from the shower, the slowly rising sun reflecting against the lingering dampness in her hair. She'd accepted his explanation as to the gardens being prepared as a gift from Eric with a gracious smile, but when Nuada told her he planned to personally escort her to a nearby garden center that carried rose plants from her favorite catalog, Grace literally beamed.

True to his word, Nuada punched the address into her GPS, thoroughly enjoying her excitement as they made their way across town later that afternoon. Positive he did not possess the ability to care about a plant, Nuada had instead devoted himself to studying the woman at his side, soaking in every emotion that crossed her face as he willingly followed Grace from aisle to aisle. Nuada didn't give a damn about roses, but he surprised himself by realizing just how much a simple smile from the human beside him could warm his very soul.

Eric Northman might very well be right in his calculating assessment that women responded to jewelry – and Grace did indeed very much like the earrings he gave her for Christmas - but Nuada quickly surmised if he wanted to see Grace genuinely happy, he had only lavish her with attention while leading her through the nearest flowering plant display. A gentle hand at her waist and an attentive ear were rewarded with sparkling eyes and repeated sultry glances, and a stunning supernatural creature in love had stood in the afternoon sun, basking in the warm glow of Grace's approval.

Finding Grace indecisive as to which ones to choose, Nuada did what any wealthy man in love who wanted to impress his lover would do . . . he pulled out that platinum card without batting an emerald green eye, casually calling over the nearest salesperson and politely announcing they'd take them all, instructing that stunned man to put every rose bush from Jackson and Perkins in the back of her Escalade – and not to scratch it. Without regret, Amarande Nuada politely purchased every patented rose bush in an entire garden center, just to see Grace smile.

To Nuada's surprise, Grace didn't bother waiting to thank him. Instead, she'd grabbed hold of his stunned self right there in front of god and everybody, kissing that man until his spine melted without giving one iota damn about the stares it garnered. It had been no more than a typical Thursday afternoon to everyone else, but Nuada could clearly remember wondering if his heart would explode simply from the glowing adoration in her eyes when Grace smiled up at him when her lips finally left his.

That pleasant memory was one of many now consuming Nuada's mind, and as he stood clutching a perfect blossom off one of those very plants, he was so lost in thoughts of Grace he wasn't even aware when Lord Niall slipped to stand beside him.

"I did knock," Lord Niall offered, knowing how upset Nuada had been when he left that conference room and headed to his office a bit earlier.

"What?" Nuada asked uncertainly, finding his mind dragged from enchanting memories back toward the unpleasant present.

"Are you alright Nuada? I am concerned for you," Niall said gently, noting the flower clutched in his fist, the clenched jaw, the seemingly permanent scowl etched on his face.

"Nothing in my life will be alright until Erulissë returns to me," Nuada stated quite matter-of-factly.

"Perhaps I may be able to assist with that . . . would you please consider accompanying me home to Tír na nÓg tonight?" Lord Niall asked sincerely, not surprised by the shocked expression Nuada immediately passed his way.

"I do not go to the Fairy Lands, you know that!" he snapped harshly.

"You have not been for many centuries, but you most certainly have been in the past," Niall corrected gently, "and it is time you came again. Why is it that you feel comfortable within the reaches of my brother's realm, yet avoid coming to mine? Do you not feel welcome in my home?"

"I feel comfortable in the elven realm because I was raised there, and your home is most certainly not my own. Now why would you ask such a strange thing of me tonight of all nights?" Nuada countered coldly. "My place is here . . . heading the search for Erulissë! There is nothing for me in Tír na nÓg."

"That is not true, and you know it Nuada – my home is most certainly your home!" Niall snapped in return. "Now as to my request, it is based on your search for Grace. I invite you to accompany me to Tír na nÓg to consult the palantír . . . perhaps it would reveal where Grace is, save us all from this miserable anguish of guardian meetings and state wide searches."

Nuada stared at Niall in stunned disbelief, incapable of believing what the fairy lord was suggesting to him. "You possess a magic seeing stone?" he asked incredulously.

Lord Niall's face fell, his disappointment at being questioned over something so trivial quite clear, nearly snorting in disgust at such a belittling thought. "Surely you do not believe that there is such a treasure as the palantír being possessed solely by the elves! I possess several . . . one nearly as large as this room." The fairy lord disclosed haughtily.

Genuinely surprised, it took a moment for Nuada to collect himself. "While I have every desire to locate Erulissë, I have absolutely no desire to experience the powers of the palantír." Nuada answered sincerely. "I wish not so see my future, nor do I have any desire to be reminded of my painful past."

"I beg you to reconsider." Niall interjected immediately, his expression passionate, his voice imploring. "There is no way to gauge the danger Grace may be in! This is the most desperate of times for the child . . . she is but one, possibly two visits away from completing the transfer ritual leaving her in a volatile state at best! Until that ritual is complete she has no way to control the power she possesses, and by our own hands has that power has been stoked to a raging level! Look at the destruction she rained down on Imladris! Grace is a danger to herself and to those around her until she can be retrieved and that transfer completed. Not only that, you know as well as I, until the ritual is complete she has no ability to mask the fairy essence that literally seeps from her pores. How is she possibly to remain safe? A vampire will have her torn apart yet again, and we may not recover her in time!"

Niall's voice grew more discouraged with each word, his face collapsing into a troubled frown by the time he finished speaking, and Nuada's matched it. He could not argue the Fairy Lord's words. Indeed, this was a treacherous time for Grace - the very worst possible time for her to be alone - and the girl was not even aware of it. Savan had poured that fragile human full of Dermot's powerful fairy essence, only four days prior shoving a double dose down her throat during that ordeal at Facility Four, amplifying every ability she had to a ridiculous level, yet they'd offered her absolutely no way of controlling it.

Indeed, Grace's self-description on the telephone earlier that morning had not been entirely inaccurate. At the current moment, she was a forlorn fairy experiment in human manipulation, a strange supernatural salmagundi that had neither turned out as expected, nor found its way to a timely completion as planned. Once the transfer was complete, everything within Grace would achieve perfect balance - the vicious raw power she now possessed would recede, leaving her no stronger or dangerous than any other fey creature - but until then, she'd been turned into a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode . . . and a very delicious smelling one at that. In a nut shell? The fairies had fucked up, and they'd lost the damn girl to boot.

"I cannot." Nuada reluctantly refused. "Never will I subject myself to such things . . . and who is to say that the images in the seeing stones are truth? Can you honestly say that you have seen such a vision come to pass?"

Niall passed Nuada a very warm and compassionate look. "As a matter of fact, I have," he revealed.

Turning to face him fully, Nuada rested a curious gaze on Lord Niall. "You say such things simply to tempt me, to take advantage of my desire to see Erulissë returned to my side."

"Yes I do," Niall readily admitted, "because returning Grace to your side is the very reason I implore you to come."

Nuada looked at Niall oddly, wondering why of all times the fairy lord wished to play word games, he had chosen this particular moment. He had no patience for such things this night!

"Have you never asked yourself why I chose to bind you to Grace?" Niall asked. "Yes, you screamed and threatened me afterward, but did you ever take time to genuinely consider the true reasons behind my actions?"

"You bound us to ensure her safety." Nuada responded instantly, drawing an admonishing head shake from Lord Niall.

"And as much mischief as you manage to involve yourself in, do you really think that I could not have found a more steady and suitable guardian for Grace than you?"

"Then why?" Nuada demanded. "You did ask for me specifically. Demanded my presence if I recall correctly."

"Indeed I did," Lord Niall said with a soft smile. "For I knew the two of you were destined to be together."

A deep silence ensued, all color draining from porcelain skin, Nuada's mind racing at the Fairy Lord's unexpected statement. "You twist your words . . . you invent these things to please yourself," he murmured in disbelief.

Sea green eyes burned with pure radiant light as Lord Niall gazed at the powerful mercenary at his side, the fairy lord's expression as sincere as his words. "The palantír does not lie Nuada, nor do I when matters as important as my descendants are concerned."

Instantly enraged, and also deeply fearful of what the stone may have revealed, Nuada found himself in danger of exploding yet again. "How dare you seek to expose the secrets of my life through the reflections of a seeing stone . . . my personal affairs are of no concern to you, or any other! You had no right!"

Unoffended by his apprehension and completely dismissive of Nuada's temper, Niall answered quite nonchalantly. "I have every right, and I tire with reminding you yet again of who I am, and the power I possess."

"You test me!" Nuada seethed.

"It takes remarkably little to test your nerves Nuada, particularly this day! You should practice more patience, just as you should be more accepting of willing help offered by others," the fairy lord scolded. "I owe you no explanation, yet I will humor you and give it . . . not until you were abducted by the Nameless Ones did I seek the advise of the palantír. I did not approach the seeing stone in search of your hidden secrets as you so desperately wish to believe . . . I approached the stone to try and secure your location in order to save your life. Do not expect an apology."

Nuada snorted in disgust. "Obviously that did not work."

"You are correct, it did not reveal your location to me," Niall admitted sadly. "For over a decade did I search those obsidian stones, returning each and every night, yet for every moon's passing did the image remain the same . . . never was I given any clue to your whereabouts, but indeed was I given a clue to your continued existence just the same."

"My existence is my own," Nuada said firmly.

"Indeed it is, but that does not mean it is not to be shared with another."

A narrowed gaze ran over that fairy lord, Nuada extremely uncomfortable with his life and future being discussed so openly, particularly by Niall Brigant. "Meaning what?" he demanded.

"Meaning that if I were to go to the palantír at this very moment and inquire as to Grace or to you, I would receive the very same image . . . the image of the two of you together . . . the image I have been seeing for centuries."

"You lie!" Nuada hissed.

"I do not lie," Niall responded forcefully, "and do not let those words cross your lips to me again! The image has haunted me for more moons than I care to count! You stand on a plateau . . . the highest peak of a mountain . . . and before you kneels a young girl, her head bowed almost as if in shame for some misdeed. Countless hundreds of times have I watched that girl raise her face to you in the reflection of that black rock, and the face is the same each and every time . . . it is the face of my great-grandchild Grace."

"You could not possibly have seen such a thing!" Nuada retched out in disbelief.

"I doubted it myself until two years ago, but from the first moment I came to rest eyes on Grace, I realized the image was true. The very instant I saw that girl, I recognized the reflection within the palantír stone to be a living breathing creature . . . my very own great-grandchild . . . the very girl I sent you in search of. That image is the solitary reason I insisted you come to Imladris, that you and only you be her guardian . . . that is the reason I bound your auras together. Grace is destined to be your life companion Nuada, I am positive of it."

Nuada looked as if he were either going to spontaneously combust, or have to take oxygen to keep from fainting, one of the two. "You bound my aura with Erulissë because you believe you saw an image of us together in the palantír? That fate herself revealed our paths to intertwine?"

"Do you intend to deny that at long last you have found love? For if you do, your actions will most certainly contradict your words," Niall countered sincerely. "For so very long you have wandered alone Nuada, yet now you linger in her presence, you wish to settle . . . and you smile. No Nuada, the palantír did not lie nor do I regret my actions. No creature can deny that the two of you belong together. Your very souls ignite in the presence of the other . . . it is clear for any eye to see."

Indeed, Amarande Nuada could not argue Lord Niall's words. Every syllable sounded the truth. "I love Erulissë as if she were the very breath to my body," Nuada admitted reluctantly. "I cannot imagine a life without her at my side."

"And I know in my heart she feels the same, so again I do beg you . . . at least consider consulting the stone as to her location. Do not risk losing Grace over some false sense of pride or self-preservation. The palantír is unwavering in the reflections it reveals to me, yet for you I am sure it would not show the same. It cannot harm you Nuada, but indeed it might serve to save the one you love."

Nuada looked at Niall uncertainly . . . the idea of finding Grace so simply was indeed tempting, but what of the risks . . . what else might he discover?

Niall's next words were as gentle as his expression. "Nuada, the loss of Grace would truly break my heart. I never wished for any of these things to happen, and now most of all, I do not wish to see that child or yourself suffer without the other because of me. Trust the words of an ancient creature who has lived so very long without love because of his own ignorant mistakes . . . no personal discomfort or inconvenience you might face in winning her return will compare to the pain of losing her forever. Do what you must - bring Grace home – lay claim to the one you love."

"She is going to hate you forever after this . . . quite possibly me as well," Nuada murmured, almost to himself.

"Grace will never hate you," Niall said firmly. "And as for myself, I do truly hope that the child will come to understand my actions in time . . . if she does not, and her hatred is the price fate intends to extract from me for preserving her life and seeing both you and my great-granddaughter happy, then I shall gladly pay it."

The very idea of Grace hating him for the remainder of her days disturbed that fairy lord to his very core, but his words were sincere. At times, it was better to place the wellbeing of others before yourself, even if your methods are not understood, and your actions seem misguided. He said nothing more, his face clouded as he offered Nuada a final gentle and reassuring pat before silently fading away.

Left alone, Nuada wondered if his words were indeed true . . . was Grace destined to be at his side forever . . . could she possibly still love him after everything he had done to her?

 **** Knock . . . knock . . . knock ****

"Come in!" Eric snapped, his foul mood permeating his voice. Impatiently glancing up from the invoices in his hand, a careful gaze traced over a pale complexion flaunting dark undereye circles, the vampire finding himself surprised both at the haunted look plastered across Nuada's face and at his threatening attire when his friend came easing through the door. His vicious demeanor quickly faded, the paperwork instantly forgotten.

"Friend . . . you don't have to knock to enter my office. You should know this by now. Please sit down and talk to me. What happened in your meeting with the guardian team? Did the email address help?" The kind words were well intentioned, the concern genuine, Eric hoping to somehow ease the obvious discomfort of the seemingly tortured man now slipping to sit across from him on the opposite side of that desk. It didn't work.

Struggling to comprehend Niall's inconceivable revelation, Nuada had come seeking solace in familiar surroundings, comforting company and what Eric and Pam assumed would be an endless supply of Crown Royal, a sparkling glass of which was already being pressed into his hand by a very diligent and every faithful female vampire.

A trembling hand with a badly bruised finger carefully set the glass aside, refusing to lift that glistening glass of temptation to his lips. Politely asking Pam for a glass of water instead, Nuada began to speak, relaying the little information the guardians and himself had collected about Grace over the past two days. The odd story ranged from strange supernatural intruders determined to help, to her discarded telephone, from the magic ring Grace somehow managed to obtain from Haldir to the impromptu telephone call he received from her this morning. Staring at the floor, Nuada struggled for composure, forcing himself to reveal the most disturbing news of all . . . Grace told him she did not trust him, and perhaps, would never trust him again.

Leaning back in his favorite chair, feet again propped on the corner of a well abused wooden desk, Eric listened intently. Both men were struggling to make sense of this strange series of events . . . finding themselves faced with a variety of unpleasant realities . . . and Grace not trusting them was something they both shared. Eric faced a terrible wake up call during that earlier telephone conversation with Sookie Stackhouse, and he'd spent the past few hours realizing his sorry ass wasn't in any better position than Nuada's was – for a whole laundry list of reasons.

Certainly, there was a boatload of blame to share between the fairies and the elves for what Grace had suffered through these past few days, both groups sharing a heaping load of responsibility for setting this horrible chain of events into motion, and neither was gonna be excused so far as Eric was concerned. The elves started it by taking Grace to heal Haldir, and it had only gone downhill from there, then they added insult to injury by snatching her from Nuada at the apartment, something Eric sincerely hoped they ever tried to do again . . . and live to tell about it. But the real creature ultimately responsible for it all, was Niall Brigant.

That Fairy Lord had achieved a hate class all his own. He'd made Eric out to be a complete incompetent ass, and that was something the powerful vampire sheriff of Area 5 had a hard time swallowing. That fearless fairy snuck right into his very own fiancée's home, snagging her cousin right out of the bed she slept in, and Eric couldn't begin to fathom the suffering either Nuada or Grace endured at Facility Four under his instruction . . . and the reason for that suffering was it's own little can of worms to be dealt with.

Try as he might to be furious with Grace for running away, Eric was having a hard time doing it . . . he couldn't possibly blame the damn girl for being terrified . . . because both he and Nuada had failed miserably at protecting her. Had he not personally stared Grace straight in the face and swore she'd never be hurt in his territory again? And had he kept her safe? Hell no - he'd done as sorry a job of protecting that girl as he'd ever done at anything in his entire life . . . a fact that just ate him alive . . . right along with the accompanying fact that Sookie Stackhouse was now holding him partially responsible for this.

Nuada hadn't backed up his oath of protection to Grace any better – some fantastic guardian he'd turned out to be - but that vampire was hard pressed to bitch about it at this point, because they were in this shit together. All it was going to take was one agitated phone call from Grace confessing the truth about what Niall was doing to her, and all hell was going to break loose in Shreveport.

Eric Northman could rest assured Sookie would most likely make him eat that damn diamond ring on her hand . . . if she didn't stake him first . . . and that would only be before she went into hiding with her cousin. Nuada would be damn lucky to survive it himself, because while Eric was well aware of the destruction Grace was capable of, Sookie Stackhouse wasn't any pushover when she was pissed off enough either, especially when it came to family . . . hell, those two girls might kill them both before this was over with and go traipsing off into the damn sunset together!

Staring at Nuada across that desk, Eric knew there were some very serious decisions to be made . . . decisions that could cost lives . . . but Nuada was obviously in no emotional shape for such a discussion tonight. No, they would meet again . . . perhaps tomorrow after sun down . . . and they would come up with a plan to stop this strange situation from escalating any farther.


	41. Sand, Sanity and Soccer Balls

Chapter 41 – Sand, Sanity and Soccer Balls

SWARM: _noun_ , a large moving group   
also known as: army, concourse, covey, crowd, drove, flock, herd, horde, host, mass, mob, multitude, myriad, pack, press, school, shoal, throng, troop

Soft black leather boots made no sound as they silently made their way across silken beach sand, a striking blond haired mercenary leading a swarm of supernatural creatures in an onslaught of monumental proportions. Their target? The entire coast of South Carolina, and more particularly . . . the Isle of Palms near Charleston where Grace lived until eight months ago.

Irked at the very idea but knowing time was precious, Nuada had reluctantly relented, allowing the various fey species to participate . . . and boy, did they come out in force! Thousands of pointy eared creatures of every shape, size and variety did indeed swarm over every inch of sand from the Georgia line all the way up to the edge of North Carolina, pixies peeping in windows, water sprites gliding through personal pools, prowling the marsh lines, even diving into ditches. Land sprites, gnomes and even the trolls willingly came as well, every fey species determined to do their part. The search started at sundown and lasted right up until the first hint of sunlight was starting to shine, finally ending with the emergence of the first signs of life in the form of joggers and the occasional early morning sand stroller.

Reports rolled in, various chitters and chatters, growls and grumbles, but when it was all said and done, their ultimate night's haul was a heaping load of squat. South Carolina withstood her supernatural assault, and she'd revealed nothing. Why? Because while Nuada had the correct idea that Grace would not be far from the ocean, but he was searching the wrong island – off the wrong coast - in the wrong state.

Disgusted, but determined, the powerful mercenary released the helpful horde to their own devices, gathering with his elite guardian squad back in that LA conference room to decide where they went from here. Reports gathered during the night showed nothing more than that beach sand did, still nothing on any bank account, no credit cards being used, and nothing so far as emails or telephone calls. It was enough to make his teeth grind, but as afternoon approached, Nuada knew he needed rest before his meeting with Eric Northman tonight. Reluctantly, he released the guardian team, returning his exhausted body to Shreveport for a shower and some sleep.

Less than fifteen minutes later, rivers of steaming water erased sweat and salt from porcelain flesh, a tired creature mechanically performing the required task of bathing. Every inch of that shower stall tore at his mind, and Nuada soon found his forehead pressed against that granite, memories of a fragile human offering herself to him freely and fearlessly throwing enough emotion through him to weaken his knees. Even the fluffy towel Nuada used to dry off when he finished bore memories of Grace. Since their return from South Carolina, Grace had spent many nights in Nuada's company, and her delicate scent of tangerines and flowers lingered everywhere. Heading to his bedroom, Nuada fought to dismiss it, but he found the silence of the luxury apartment stifling and the loneliness of that huge bed insufferable.

Setting his cell phone on the nightstand, an ancient creature trained to sleep under duress forced emerald eyes to close. Exhaustion bred mistakes, and Nuada knew if he did not rest his senses would be dulled. He might miss something important, and that was not an option. Forcing dark dreams away, Nuada focused his mind on more pleasant times, thinking back to the spine tingling pleasures provided by their physical explorations of one another, Nuada very much fulfilling his promise to explore the many varied ways to please a human woman.

 _"Man anírach?" Nuada whispered. His breath was hot as it traced against the flesh of Grace's neck. "Tell me . . . My lips . . . my tongue . . . my teeth?" The entire time he was speaking to her, his hands were exploring, gentle and steady, stroking up and down her back, then easing her delicate lace panties off._

"Nuada please . . ." Grace groaned. "I can't take much more of these games." She was fully nude, while Nuada had on those damn black silk pajama pants like he always did when it was "her turn" . . . And yes, they took turns . . . alternating nights of teasing the other into a gut wrenching state.

"Mmmmm . . .but that was the idea was it not?" he murmured in return, gently sinking his teeth into the soft curve of her neck, then tenderly licking the reddened place he had just made. A warm porcelain hand came to cup her bare breast, ever so carefully rolling her rapidly hardening flesh between his fingers, teasing her nipple to life. "Where do you want to go this time?" Nuada asked seductively.

"The mountains," she managed to moan, knowing he would not touch her mind without permission.

Hearing her answer, Nuada gently slid into her thoughts, raising the temperature of her body as their auras united. Carefully, he steered her away from the reality of that bedroom, mentally maneuvering them to a quiet meadow with lush green grass, the most delicate of breezes, a gentle night sky.

More than anything on earth, Grace wanted Nuada to possess her again, but he flatly refused. She wondered if it was because of the strange agreement they made in that tacky hotel room in South Carolina, or if it was because indeed Lord Elrond's words were true and Nuada was afraid if he continued to sleep with her they would become too emotionally involved and he would meet his demise at her hands. The pleasure shooting through her body soon made her forget that thought, when Nuada forced her to concentrate on him instead.

"Man anírach?" he repeated, "Erulissë, I am still waiting to hear what it is you want from me this night." One hand was still tormenting her left breast, while the other had smoothly shifted her position, grasping her leg behind the knee to loop it over his waist, opening her lower body to his investigative caresses.

"You are a hateful creature," Grace moaned, feeling his hands still instantly against her. If she did not answer his question, he would refuse to touch her until she did. It was part of the game, and Nuada played to win. The creature could be downright cruel at times, well aware of the physical torture he was inflicting, and obviously enjoying every second of it.

"Bastard!" she growled, trying to bite his neck in retaliation, finding nothing but air as he quickly jerked away from her, refusing to allow her the simple satisfaction.

"We play by rules, and you are cheating," he said quietly, intentionally pulling her hips toward his, rubbing his hardened flesh against her, just to tease. Oh, this part irked her to no end, but payback was hell, and by god tomorrow night she would make his sorry ass suffer . . . But for now . . .

"Hands and mouth," Grace finally said, her voice almost a whisper, embarrassed to ask him for what she wanted, although deep inside she found it to be the most erotic thing imaginable.

His smile was devilish as he leaned close to her again, and Grace found her mind instantly riveted as a warm alabaster hand slipped from tracing the delicate hollows at the back of her knee. Her breath caught, as it subtly slid up the inside of her thigh, the pressure of fingertips just hard enough to force her attention. An involuntary sigh escaped, as Nuada's hand finally reached its destination, coming to rest gently cupping her.

"Is this what you need tonight, Erulissë?" Nuada murmured, trailing the outline of her ear with his moist tongue before firmly sucking her earlobe, all the while shifting that hand, a well placed thumb now tracing painfully slow circles against the most sensitive nub of her body. "Or is this more to your liking?" he teased, easing his hand farther between her thighs to add the most gentle fingertip massage, long fingers sliding against the welcome dampness of her flesh, but not entering her.

"Damn you, Nuada . . . " Grace never got out the rest, finding her words suddenly swallowed by his mouth covering hers.

Well experienced at this tantalizing game of subtle domination, Nuada took complete control. One hand quickly captured Grace's wrists, holding them above her head as his tongue slid demandingly into the heat of her mouth, two skillful fingers slipping into the welcome dampness of her flesh. Nuada relished every second of her submission, knowing this was a great sacrifice to Grace's staunchly determined personality to bend her will to him this way. That made it so much more pleasurable . . . but Nuada would never abuse it, and he would most certainly never push her boundaries too far.

Ever so carefully he gauged her reactions, watching the emotions play across her face, noting the catch of her breath when he brushed her most sensitive spots, feeling her tension rise as he manipulated her flesh, savoring every tiny gasp or moan. Slowly his mouth and hand coordinated their rhythm, drawing the hidden lust from her very bones. Nuada basked in the way Grace began to rub and writhe her bare skin against him.

Involuntarily the leg around his waist tightened, her hips moved in time along with his experienced caresses, Grace panted slightly as his mouth released hers. Nuada knew she would be more aroused if he added the stimulation of his hot mouth nursing at her breast to this mix of pleasures, and when the heat of his lips closed around the rosy bud of her nipple, she began to arch her back and softly groan his name. Nuada knew he was winning . . . although he was losing at the same time, his own body so desperately aroused it literally hurt.

Grace was rapidly approaching a desperate place herself, almost fighting against the hand that restrained hers, wild blue flames flying beneath her flesh. She wanted nothing more than to tear loose from him, rip away the scraps of fabric that separated them, grab his hips and force him to take her . . . She needed to feel Nuada inside her again . . . not just his fingers. "Nuada, please more . . ." she begged, as wild jolts of pleasure raced up her spine, her throat releasing an almost primal sounding purr.

Her gentle sounds of pleasure were answered with an almost guttural growl, Nuada somewhat relenting, finally releasing her hands so he could free that arm to collect her tighter against him. Fighting for control himself, he soon found his own hips meeting every motion from hers, the hard flesh of his body pressing against her through the thin layer of silk that separated them. Both bronze arms were now wrapped around him, fingers digging into his shoulders and wrenching at his hair as Grace clung to Nuada, incapable of stopping the tidal wave of pleasure that was building inside her.

Typically, Nuada would have teased her further, shifting himself and prolonging this for what at times seemed like forever, but tonight he knew his own resistance would not hold. Adding a third finger, his firm strokes deepened, and Nuada worked her with his thumb until she lost her breath.

His mouth returned to her ear when she was on the verge of climax. "Give yourself to me Erulissë," he whispered into her ear. "Show me that I please you."

Those seductive words in that strange voice in conjunction with everything that sexual master was doing to her, was more than Grace could possibly resist. Within seconds she found herself drowning, swallowed by a storm of passionate lust as wild spasms of pure delight tore through her body.

Nuada felt the instant rush of heat as her body clenched against his hand where he held her, knowing he had brought her pleasure. Cradling Grace against his chest, Nuada continued to gently stroke her, feeling the slight trembles that shook her, tiny aftershocks reminding them both of the intense gratification a simple touch could bring. Her head was buried in his neck, and a tender hand came to tip her chin, bringing her face up to meet his. Emerald eyes, glazed with passion, smoldered her a look that could melt bones when Nuada looked down at her. But his face instantly clouded when he saw the tear slipping down her cheek, her eyes refusing to meet his.

"Erulissë . . . what is wrong? Was this not pleasant for you . . . Did I hurt you in some way?" Nuada asked carefully, positive he had managed to control the violent white flames that had burnt her so badly before.

"It was wonderful . . . I always is," Grace whispered, her voice belying the heat of passion that still held her, yet a distinct note of sadness lingered.

"Then tell me saes please, have I done something wrong in the way I have pleasured you?" Nuada's eyes were overflowing with concern, his expression now consumed by a worried frown, his voice full of emotion, genuinely afraid he had offended Grace in some way.

"Why don't you want to make love to me again Nuada?" Grace whispered, tears shining in her huge grey eyes. "Is it because you're an elf?"

ELF.

Nuada shot straight up in that bed, the covers off in a second. Elf. Literally tearing across that bedroom, he was snatching on his battle clothing and reaching for that glistening war blade before the sheet settled back on the bed good from where he'd flung it into the air.   
He'd been understandably distracted when he stood in Haldir of Lórien's office Monday morning, but now the cold and calculating mind of an ancient mercenary had achieved perfect lucidity, one word murmured in a memory serving to decipher the smell of fear and uncomfortable environment the greeted him four days past.

He now knew the truth behind the identity of the creature cowering under Haldir desk, the man seeping fear from his very pores. Cairbre. That damn silver haired meddler was obviously the key to this strange circle of events, certainly well versed enough in earthly matters to help Grace escape, and in the perfect position as both a marchwarden and Grace's friend to both know about and gain access to Haldir's cloak and that blasted magical ring.

Fading into the shadows, Nuada instantly rematerialized in the Marchwarden camp of Lothlórien. The highly skilled nose of an immaculate tracker led the way, a killer slipping through various pools of darkness toward a secluded talan, easing unnoticed past two guards to silently place a knife against that irritating elf's neck. Poisonous threats slithered mind to mind, that mercenary not having to utter one word to make his intentions clear. Amarande Nuada planned to take that retired marchwarden to a different place. He intended to torture him for information of Grace, and then Nuada was going to kill Cairbre for interfering in his affairs.

*******************************************************

Brilliant watercolors painted an evening sky, the sun sinking, sharing its final goodbye for the day. South Padre Island was breathtaking, the scenery awe inspiring, the house perfect in every way, but for the first time in her life, Grace found no comfort in the warm sand or the soft salt breeze. Even torturing the plump boiled shrimp on her dinner plate couldn't bring a smile, although when she sprinkling the top of one with pepper, pretended it was Bill Compton and bit it in half she did manage a half hearted snicker.

If Sookie had been sitting next to her, they would've been laughing their asses off, and they would've each chewed up that pretend little shrimp of a vamp over and over, and it would have tasted wonderful. If Nuada had been sitting next to her, he would have been feeding her that shrimp, caressing her lips as he gently put it in her mouth, and it would have tasted fantastic. As it was, it tasted like rubber, and she finally just spit it out.

Grace had made no contact with anyone for four days now . . . not one call, not one email, not one anything had been made to anyone since she hung up that phone with Nuada. It was now Thursday night - the seventh day since she healed Haldir of Lórien – one week since this intolerable shit started, and Grace was in mental combat fatigues, trying desperately to fight her way clear of this impossible net of supernatural strings she'd found herself woven into. Grace was approaching this situation the only way she knew how, paralleling it with the most painful experience of her life – the death of her father. You remain calm. You accept the situation for what it is. You deal with the necessities first, then you gather information and decide where you go from here.

Step 1 - Satisfy basic needs.

Grace easily accomplished that. The grocery store Jaus referred her to was small but sufficient, and both the pantry and refrigerator were now well stocked with her favorite things. There was also a kindly island man running a simple food stand about three miles away, and Grace found that he could provide her with an endless stream of fat boiled shrimp, which just so happened to be one of her favorites.

She dropped by for a look see on Tuesday, feeling silly at the idea of buying dinner on her way home from the grocery store, but what the hell . . . wasn't like there was anybody waiting at home to complain! A virtual shack of badly beaten boards was highlighted by a sign so weathered as to not reveal anything legible, forcing Grace to wonder if it was safe to eat anything that came out of there, but the aroma was certainly enticing. Stepping from the cool corner shadows, a kindly sun beaten man stared openly at the sight of her, soft dark eyes surrounded by deep laugh lines carefully taking in the scars . . . and the frown.

Grace nearly fled from his scrutiny, but his smile relieved her of her apprehensions, leathery lips and crooked teeth silently telling her that he understood. Bad things happened to people, but here on South Padre Island she was safe . . . here, Laurel Grace could be at peace. The gentle old man hadn't said one word as he prepared her food, but he'd recognized the damaged soul she tended, and when he handed her that brown paper sack, it was with the silent blessing that she find comfort here. This island had a funny way of healing people, and the shopkeeper hoped it could do the same for her.

Step 2 – Save your Sanity

That little gem of a task proved much more difficult, because it entailed finding a way to corral the boiling vat of memories she'd managed to pilfer from Nuada's mind . . . and boy were there some valuable little oddities contained in that putrid mix! It had taken nearly every moment of the past four days, but Grace had slowly and carefully sorted through every tangible thought. Yes, there was a small group of fuzzy images left lingering, but she'd squared her mind away, arranging every stolen memoir almost as if she had a filing cabinet in her mind . . . my memories here, Nuada's memories here, bad memories to the left, good memories to the right. It seemed so strange, so ridiculously simple, but thankfully it worked.

Another thing worked ridiculously well too - her computer. Approaching this the same way she would any important project, Grace called that laptop into service, actually cataloging various things and making notes. From what she could remember, she'd been to the white place in her dreams at least a dozen times. It was called Facility Four, the name a tidbit plucked from Nuada's mind. Facility Four was a part of a large pharmaceutical company which fell under the ownership umbrella of Brigant Enterprises, and considering the medications Nuada provided her in the past, Grace wasn't entirely surprised.

Determined fingers spent tireless hours racing over computer keys, all feeling for time lost as she vigorously tracked down every shred of information possible about her great-grandfather's businesses. Grace didn't know why she'd never been bright enough to do this before, because a virtual wealth of information was out there for the asking. No doubt Lord Niall was wealthy beyond comprehension, because it seemed the fairies had a hand in nearly every candy dish, from pharmaceuticals to financial and investment firms to real estate and lawn furniture, they had it covered.

A little engrossing research about fey species proved to be revealing as well, Grace realizing if even half of what was perceived to exist was real, human were in the minority for sure. Who knew they came in so many different varieties? Beautiful, tough and ferocious, you got to pick your poison from sprites and gnomes to fairies and hobgoblins, elementals to trolls and angels. The damn things had to be everywhere.

Nuada's memories revealed other things as well, detailed flashbacks that went far beyond the names of buildings and companies, loathsome recollections of physical activity that wounded Grace to the core. Yes, Nuada had enjoyed their sinful sexual sessions even more than she did, but he'd backed them up with repeated visits to Crash Mansion during his all too frequent trips to Los Angeles . . . visiting that werewolf whore a dozen times or more since they'd returned from South Carolina, including Valentine's Day night. Nuada might have a problem possessing her plain old scarred up human body, but Mr. Fido Fucker certainly didn't suffer those same emotional restrains within the walls of Crash Mansion. He'd fucked that red-haired shape-shifter stupid more times that she could count.

Blood boiling with jealous venom, nimble fingers flew yet again, a quick internet search revealing a very intriguing website about the nightclub. Clicking screen to screen, Grace found herself praying the damn hell hole of homemade sin burnt to the ground with that werewolf bitch inside. The very sight of those black leather couches in the dark photographs made her blanch. Eights days was not enough time to forget the sick sound of flesh slapping in time, and Grace could still feel the course texture of that girl's hair in her hands.

Closing that website and slamming her laptop shut, Grace flatly refused to let that reopened hole in her heart consume her again. She had enough fish to fry right now, and she'd be damned if that whore would haunt her dreams. Heading to the balcony, she fought back, desperately trying to reconcile Nuada's visits to see that prostitute with his recent confessions of love for her. Yes, he may have given Serena his body, but from his very own lips had he confessed to love Grace, those haunting words repeating themselves over and over again in her mind . . .

 _"Passing time in the arms of another does not equal honest pleasure . . . there is no substitute for the one who truly holds your affections . . . I love you, and I shall never stop loving you . . . pleasures of the flesh are not pleasures of the heart, and my heart belongs to you Erulissë."_

Furious, Grace could not stop the blue flames that burned beneath her skin and lit the depths of her eyes. It simply made no sense, and surely Nuada was not so stupid as to think he could have it both ways! Yes, Grace had very difficult choices to make, but so did that ignorant simpleton who claimed she held his heart. She hated to be the bearer of bad news and ruin his perpetually sunny existence in immortal LALA land, but Nuada was in for the wake up call of his never ending life, because Laurel Grace could promise that man on HER very life, he would never get the satisfaction of even breathing in her direction again if he intended to continue sleeping with that whore.

Step 3 – Make a plan

There weren't any familiar yellow sticky notes on the wall, but even in hiding Grace managed to be painfully well organized. She had already compiled a computerized list of mundane things she knew must be taken care of . . . from contacting Alcide Heaveaux about work, to paying her light bill and truck insurance, to answering the emails clogging her account . . . but while she had her perfect little list completed, she could do very little with it. Staring at her computer, intent grey eyes kept returning again and again to the tidy little piece of paper taped there with her favorite quotation:

 _Handle every stressful situation like a dog: If you can't eat it or hump it — piss on it and walk away!_

True to her sarcastically inspirational message, she'd done just that – walked away – but Grace had to know how long she intended to stay gone before she could do a thing, and while a big portion of that decision rested with Lord Niall, an even greater part lay with Nuada. Could she trust her guardian to protect her if she went back?

Watching the final tip of that giant life giving orb sink beneath the distant landscape, Grace waited until the last lingering hints of fire orange and burning gold faded from the sky and the first stars were shining overhead before grudgingly heading in from the balcony. Darkness brought sleep and dreams, and even sitting at the kitchen island was its own private form of tribulation. That smooth dark granite countertop was so very similar to the one in that luxury apartment, so very reminiscent of that damn dark shower stall where Nuada first made love to her, it broke her heart simply to look at it.

How was Grace to know that as she sat in South Padre Island, intently focused on memories of Nuada and how that slick granite felt against the silky skin of her back, that Nuada himself was standing in Shreveport, leaning against that exact stone shower wall dreaming of her? Physically separated by a huge distance, their united desire was separated by nothing. Each soul's plea for peace mirrored the other, both craving the very same thing - that they would get another chance to get it right.

Time blurred into treasured memories as Grace stared transfixed, dancing light partnering with the brilliant sapphire flames bursting from her eyes, the deep mineral veins stretching through that stone slab shimmering with rich metallic hues of bronze and silver, silently daring Grace to remember the times they shared. Delicate fingertip ghosted across the glassy surface, her mind reminiscing the feel of silken flesh slicked by a thin sheen of sweat clutched beneath her fingertips. Closing her eyes, Grace could literally feel the heat of his mouth lingering against her breast, an actual tremor of lust racing down her spine at the thought of his hips rocking against her, the motion of his hand as he pleasured her . . .

 _"Why don't you want to make love to me again Nuada?" Grace whispered, tears shining in her huge grey eyes. "Is it because you're an elf?"_

"Ni ú-edhe," Nuada murmured in response, wishing he had the courage to speak the words to her in English so she could understand. Grace looked up at him, confused.

Collecting himself, Nuada sought to reassure her. "Erulissë, how could you possibly think that I do not desire you?" he asked, watching her face collapse into a complete frown, her eyes overflowing with tears now.

"Because we play this game, but we don't . . ." Her eyes fell, her voice beginning to tremble slightly as Grace fought for composure. " Do you want to make love to me again Nuada?"

Nuada pressed his forehead against hers, breathing deep as he wrestled against his own emotions, and his own body. His leg now nestled between hers, and he could feel the dampness from her center seeping through the thin fabric of his pants, blatantly telling him how much she hungered for him. He ached, his own flesh throbbing and twitching as he fought against himself. How could he possibly make Grace understand how much he loved her . . . how much he wanted to possess and pleasure her again . . . each and every part of her. She had no idea how she tormented his mind, his body, even his dreams . . . how would he ever survive this sweet torture until she completed that damn ritual?

"Melethril nín, know that I have never desired anything or anyone more than you . . . but it is the very strength of that need that forces me to refuse the ultimate pleasure you offer. If I do not restrain myself, I could harm you Erulissë. Saes, I cannot explain it, but try to understand." His voice faded until it was barely audible as agonizing memories of the disastrous night he last possessed her came flooding back, Nuada clinging to her as he tried to force the dark thoughts away.

Nestled in his arms with their auras still bound, Grace could clearly feel the raw emotional pain now flowing through Nuada, although she could not locate the source of it. Easing her hands to his face, she kissed him softly on the mouth, silently drawing it away, letting the gentle blue flickers tracing beneath her skin soothe him, stop the torment Nuada seemed to be struggling against.

"You would never hurt me," Grace told him firmly, pure unadulterated trust shining in her eyes as she met the burning intensity of his gaze, "and you will never make me believe different."

Once again a single tear slipped down her cheek, Grace hardly able to force her mind to recollect the words she once spoke with such conviction. After everything they shared, after she trusted him so completely, how could Nuada do this to her?

Praying a cold drink would ease the tightness that now clawed her throat, Grace went to dig in the fridge, lingering within the opening, enjoying the cool air as it drifted against her skin. Her restless mind was fighting a raging war against her heart, each fiercely determined to win - one determined to trust, another to protect. Lost in a confusing potpourri of emotion, Grace was paying little attention when she slammed that refrigerator door, but she snapped out of her stupor fast enough, finding herself suddenly thrown against it.

Just as Nuada had opened his powerful mind to Grace in Rivendell, since her disappearance he had left it open, a gracious doorway begging her to respond . . . and as inconceivable as it might seem, love and lust overrode that ring on her finger . . . and she did. Somewhere deep in her subconscious, Grace accepted Nuada's powerful mental invitation to reunite with him, and the unthinkable happened. Grace's telekinetic power combined with Nuada's own ability to transport himself, and she reached right out and grabbed that man, subliminally siphoning him through space, and parking Nuada right in her face.

Unfortunately for both of them, Grace's impromptu response interrupted a very ugly moment, because Nuada had just begun to ease that knife against Cairbre's neck when Grace snatched him away. She'd unknowingly saved her friend's life . . . for now . . . but she'd placed herself in his unenviable position instead and in lieu of the beautiful reunion it could have been, Grace ended up pinned to an unforgiving steel wall by an enraged mercenary, with a knife to her throat.

A terrified gasp crawled across her lips as Grace suddenly found herself crushed against a quilted leather tunic that smelled of dark spices while tendrils of thick blond hair brushed against her cheeks. Nuada's eyes were nearly black with rancid fury, taunt muscles quivering in the anticipation of death, and that snarl of viciousness twisting his face was animalistic at best. Cold silver steel honed to a perfect edge was pressed to the flesh of her neck, an unforgiving hand clamped on her shoulder, the tiniest line of blood beginning to trickle as all color drained from her face.

It happened so fast neither of them knew if it was real, two stunned creatures frozen for a moment in time, neither capable of sound or motion. Thankfully, the second frightened whimper that escaped her lips broke the strange spell that seemed to hold them, a pure crimson glow washing over Nuada as the warmth from Grace's aura touched him for the first time in over a week, startled green eyes finally recognizing terrified grey ones. That evil blade quickly found its way to the floor, Nuada staggering back from her, horrified.

The strange metallic sound of a knife hitting hardwood barely registered with Grace, but when Nuada released his grip and stepped away, her mind responded instantly. Sapphire flames flew as Grace took every advantage of this special new connection they suddenly seemed to share, forcing Nuada's own power of teleportation against him. Reaching into the very depths of her soul, Grace summoned the most tenacious tendrils of telekinetic energy she possessed. . . and she kicked Nuada out of that kitchen like a soccer ball.

Unlike their sexual trysts, there were no rules to this strange new game of Metaphysical Male Manipulation, and while Grace hadn't been able to squeeze Nuada's innards out on the terrace of Imladris the way she so desperately wanted, that petrified human was damn sure able to manipulate his luckless ass now . . . and boy did she . . . delivering an invisible hail mary pass to oblivion. Fortunately for Cairbre, Grace didn't catapult her guardian back to that marchwarden camp. Grace launched Nuada toward the first place a panicked mind could cough up, and how she managed to come up with the hood of Eric Northman's Corvette was anyone's guess.

Since the sun fell, Eric had been somewhat impatiently waiting for Nuada to show up for their prescheduled meeting, and his friend was atypically late. Paper shuffling gave way to finger tapping, boring conversations morphing into silent stares, and ultimately he resorted to outdoor pacing as the Vampire Sheriff of Area 5 tried to determine what could possibly have him detained. Growing more concerned by the moment, he'd just made what seemed like his fiftieth pass by the front of that gleaming new red Corvette when Nuada himself finally did appear . . . and all that was missing was the screamed cry of "Geronimo".

For every throw there is a catch, and while Grace provided the perfect pass, Eric Northman found himself to be the unlikely receiver. Materializing out of thin air, Nuada's body was already in motion, performing an odd combination of textbook tackle and full body check, splattering one tall lean and completely unsuspecting vampire across the hood of a Chevrolet automobile like bugs on a nighttime windshield.

The gentle squeak of the back door at Fangtasia opening was nothing compared to the genuine squeal of delight that came gushing out of Pam the vampire when she came outside to find her boss several seconds later, because never in two hundred years of wild dreams had she imagined such a sight . . . and of all the times to be without her camcorder, Pam couldn't believe it had to be right now. That image was a priceless one to be sure, and she'd be kicking herself for eternity because she couldn't upload it to MySpace!

The two male friends now lay nose to nose, arm in arm and crotch to crotch, Eric's long denim clad legs involuntarily thrown open in submission to the powerful mercenary now unceremoniously sprawled on top of him, the odd duo splayed across that shiny expanse of red paint for all the world to see. That materializing mercenary hit Eric so hard the vampire was stunned, and had he breathed, he most certainly would've found himself without it. Poor Nuada did breathe . . . or at least he used to . . . and he struggled to find it, along with trying to figure out where the hell he just landed - and on whom.

Grace was taking this no better than Nuada. Her muddled mind couldn't begin to comprehend what happened right then, and she wondered if her scrambled brain was playing dirty tricks on her. The brush of trembling fingers against her neck revealed the tiniest crimson traces, an intricately etched silver blade shimmered on that hardwood floor, and Grace was forced to acknowledge yet another harsh reality. Nuada had only moments before been standing in that kitchen with her. Mind reeling, Grace stooped to retrieve the impressive weapon, clutching it for protection as she raced for the phone and car keys, convinced Nuada intended to kill her . . . and rightfully so. The venom in Nuada's face coupled with that baby butcher knife shoved to her throat was enough to make any man, woman or supernatural creature beg for forgiveness.

Dialing as she raced downstairs, Grace was thrilled to hear Valentine Jaus's voice on the other end of that line. He'd recently risen, and it took a moment for his still groggy mind to catch up to her panicked voice as she screamed into the phone that she was going to die. The vampire struggled for words to calm her, Grace listening impatiently as he offered gentle reassurances, promising he'd be there as soon as possible. No, she didn't need to leave the beach house . . . No, he did not believe Nuada intended to kill her . . . She needed to remain calm . . . She needed to sit her ass down . . . She needed to just shut up and breathe until he arrived.

Clicking that phone shut, Grace stood quaking on the concrete patio of a strange vampire's beach house, praying she was gonna wake up from this completely screwed up scenario she'd called life for the past eight months. Sookie took this strangeness in stride, and Grace had certainly tried to, but the girl was reaching her limits here and pretty soon something was gonna have to give.

Taking a momentary mental assessment, Grace realized she was very much back to square one, almost in the same exact spot she'd been in when she first arrived at that apartment back in early October . . . the cell phone in her hand was not hers, that Jaguar was not hers, the beach house most certainly was not hers . . . everything around her was foreign, there was nothing safe or secure. Grace felt the exact same way she did the night she exploded in that kitchen.

 _"This isn't home you moron . . . I want my fucking life back! I want my truck and my keys . . ."_

Thankfully, the life she wished to return to was no longer in South Carolina . . . it was in Shreveport . . . and Grace stood there debating how she might manage getting it back. Slowly the hand clutching that knife reached out, rubbing the wrinkled metal marring the side of that car. It was a perfect reproduction of Nuada's fist print, the same fist just holding that knife to her throat. Grace frowned. She had serious doubts that she could actually get away from Nuada if he showed up again, and she had no idea what he intended to do to her if he did, but she could certainly promise her past lover one thing. She'd run her last foot from a fucking fairy, and the next creature that jumped in her face, was gonna get their ass slapped back out of it.

 _**Fifteen Minutes since Nuada dropped his knife . . .** _

Gentle blue flickers were tracing beneath her skin by the time Grace returned inside, and sidling up to the kitchen counter, Grace slipped a pack of Salem Lights from her purse. Nuada hated smoking, something Grace thought about as she smirked, then ripped open the pack. She lit one, thoroughly enjoying that deep burning drag as she casually meandered out to the balcony and flopped down in a lounge chair. Every puff of wind drew her attention, every shift of shadow make her look, because she didn't know if her sliver of contact with Nuada somehow gave him enough time to read her thoughts and know where she was. Nuada might come marching across that balcony at any second, but if he felt froggy, then by god let him go ahead and jump. She had always trusted and respected her guardian, had cared for and tried to love him too, but enough was enough. Ditto for her great-grandfather, Lord Niall. If they wanted a fight from Laurel Grace, she could promise them both - it was waiting.

Every second of the next thirty minutes crawled past almost as if in slow motion while Grace waited for Valentin Jaus, chain smoked and played with the keys on that telephone . . . plenty of time for soul searching . . . and an ample amount of time to get even more pissed off about her situation as a pile of cigarette butts gradually collected in the empty Diet Dr. Pepper can by her side.

Flicking the ashes from the latest glowing stick of tobacco in her fingers, Grace blew them away with a puff of wind from her mind. She was staring at the stars, and carefully scrutinizing every second she shared with Nuada in Rivendell. Her interaction with her guardian had been different on the terrace of Imladris than it had ever been before. Never had Grace dreamed of touching Nuada's mind, yet she did, taking his memories as easily as if she were picking summer flowers in the garden. He'd been able to manipulate her too, easing away the vicious grip of her mind as gently as a curtain shifting in the breeze. Their relationship had unquestionably changed. The bond between them had deepened, their mental link was more profound and Grace wondered what it meant.

 _ **Forty-Five Minutes since Nuada dropped his knife . . .**_

She was just lighting another cigarette when her eyes captured movement, promptly coming to rest against the tall lean form of a male figure, long blond hair lingering on a soft summer breeze. Grace knew immediately it was Jaus, because Nuada wouldn't have been caught dead in that outfit, and she couldn't help the blatantly assessing look she ran over him. Her eyes had been blurred by tears the first time they met, but there wasn't a damn thing wrong with them now . . . and there wasn't a damn thing wrong with what they were looking at either.

The natural beauty of Texas was taking on a whole new meaning, and Grace meant that as an honest compliment. She'd seen beach and biker dudes until she could hurl, but sexy western vampire was something she never expected. Grace liked it . . . a lot. Those narrow hips were taking 7 For All Mankind denim to new levels of female intoxication, and if the way they were clinging to that creature was any indication of what was inside, Valentin Jaus had a whole lot to offer some lucky woman. It didn't end there either. Few men could honestly make a heavy tooled leather belt and matching boots look good, but Jaus was doing it to perfection . . . right along with making that plaid button up shirt he'd only managed to half tuck-in look like it was ripped right off the front cover of a men's magazine. My word, that was some delicious eye candy right there.

Jaus was reassessing Grace himself. The swollen eyes and snot were thankfully gone now, replaced by haunting grey eyes and a very frank stare, while the simple black tank top and extremely short cut off sweatpants left little to the imagination, but it was the gentle blue cast covering her skin that commanded his attention. Logan warned Jaus that Grace was "different" and he knew she was related to the fey, but somehow that information did not translate into the incomprehensible sight of a half naked human girl that let off the faintest sapphire glow.

 _ **Fifty Minutes since Nuada dropped his knife . . .**_

Easing across that balcony, Jaus was carefully considering the information presenting itself. While Grace's expression told him she was very angry, the trembling hands easily affirmed how upset and afraid she actually was . . . and it seemed she had good reason. He'd taken a very close look at that Jaguar before coming upstairs, rubbing his own fingers through the obviously male inflicted fist print in the side. Whoever hit that car, meant business.

Right now, his eyes were riveted on the elaborate weapon shimmering in Grace's hand, and he immediately recognized it to be the war blade of a powerful warrior. Obviously what Grace told him on the phone was true, and that was indeed concerning. Logan had assured Jaus the danger to Grace came from Lord Niall - not Nuada - but as it was, Jaus was beginning to wonder of Nuada's intentions. Frowning slightly, he insisted they go inside. Until he got a handle on what the hell was happening here, the protection and light of the kitchen was preferential to the dark openness of that beach house deck.

Leaving the sliding glass door open so he could listen, Jaus quickly checked the interior of the house and found more reason for alarm. The imprint of Grace's body was clearly outlined in suntan oil against the surface of that stainless refrigerator, a direct reminder that Nuada threw her against it. Frowning desperately at this point, the vampire steered Grace toward the den instead, settling her into a comfortable chair. He went for a glass of water, hoping it might help calm her, then eased himself to sit in the matching chair directly across from her.

 _**Fifty-Five Minutes since Nuada dropped his knife . . .** _

"You mind?" Grace asked politely, indicating the cigarette in her hand with a slight nod. Her hands were somewhat full since she was still holding the cell phone and keys . . . and Nuada's knife.

"No," Jaus lied. The smell was offensive, but considering what she'd just endured, he'd let it go for now. The dancing curls of grey smoke also helped mask some of that delicious fairy scent seeping from her, so in fact, it probably was a good thing.

"Change your mind, let me know," Grace said, finishing it then dropping the butt into the empty drink can she'd forgotten on the end table with a tiny hiss.

They were still both eyeballing each other in the worst possible way, each trying to get a better assessment of the other, but soon Grace found that Jaus was no longer meeting her gaze. Those speckled green eyes were shifting in a continuous circle, rotating from the scar on her shoulder up to the new red trail crossing her neck, then dropping down to that knife and back around again. She could tell that mark on her neck was irritating him in the worst possible way, and that blade she was casually twirling in her hand wasn't helping.

"You want to look at it?" Grace asked, offering the knife.

Logan looked over the knife very carefully. No, he did not want to touch that war blade, for many reasons. It was an insult for another man to touch a warrior's weapon under even the most simple of circumstances, but he didn't believe he wanted to touch that particular knife under ANY circumstances.

"Shift it," he told Grace, "so I can see the blade markings."

As requested, Grace held the knife under the lamp beside her, easing it to and fro in the bright light. The flawless metal of the blade was intricately traced with etchings, marking out a beautiful scrolled pattern with delicate almost heart shaped designs woven within it . . . but there was more. She watched in amazement as the various designs on the blade seemed to shift and move along with the light, changing patterns, almost as if they were alive. There were various images of men and creatures fighting, along with what she assumed were words in some undecipherable language. Staring at it transfixed, Grace realized the images were not on the blade, they were IN the blade, actually seeming to reflect from deep within the very metal itself. She could not imagine what they meant.

Jaus had a fairly good idea. He was guessing there were sacred spells embedded in the blade of that knife, and he was absolutely correct. That war blade resting in Grace's hand was Nuada's most sacred possession. A knife crafted by Thamuz himself - Master of Weapons in the dark realm. Implements of death were not simple things to the dark ones . . . they were earned . . . paid for in pain and death by those worthy of receiving one, bestowed with sacred spells and treasured for eternity. That knife had been bought and paid for with Nuada's own blood. Grace would do well to treat it with respect.

 _**Exactly One Hour since Nuada dropped his knife . . .** _

"I believe you would do well to put that weapon somewhere safe," Jaus told Grace firmly.

"I believe the human would do well to tell me the location of that weapon's owner!" a poisonous voice demanded.

The frightening sound was enough to send shock waves of pure terror ripping through your veins, and it seemed to come from everywhere at once, no identifiable source obvious to either Jaus or Grace as they frantically looked around. Jaus bared fangs and blurred across the den, instantly at Grace's side, although he did not touch her. He had a terrible suspicion what this was about, and he intended to come out of it alive.

"HUMAN! I wait for a reply!" the growl repeated, words worming their way through her brain to curl around every nerve ending, causing Grace to cringe as she shrank into the corner of that oversized chair. The air got thick, feeling like pudding as she struggled to draw it into her lungs, and a rancid burning odor saturated it as a creature stepped from the very shadows in the corner of that room. It was the hulking form of a massive warrior, wrinkled skin of oiled mahogany bearing more scars that one could begin to record, reptilian eyes of pure gold boring into Grace, seeming as if they were searching her very soul.

"Do you speak the language?" he demanded, finding that Grace's thoughts were unreadable to him. Yes, Grace spoke English, but she didn't speak crap right then . . . she couldn't . . . all she could manage was to open and close her mouth in shock, very much like a water starved guppy gasping for air.

"I ask you for the last time human, where is the owner of that weapon?" the creature snarled. "If a warrior does not claim his fallen blade one hour past the loss, I Thamuz, Master of Dark Weapons claim the blade and his body. Prove Amarande Nuada Karayane lives, or I retrieve that blade and claim your head as penance for touching it."

That dark skinned, seven foot tall mass of muscle started walking across the room toward that chair, but a terrified Grace equaled a dangerous Grace, and if that thing intended to touch her, she intended to throw him through that wall. Scared shitless, but perfectly capable of defending herself, Grace instantly went from having faint blue flickers tracing beneath her flesh to being consumed by brilliant sapphire flames, flaming bright enough to force Jaus off that table at her side. Flat black eyes now locked with gold, Grace meeting his penetrating stare with one of her own.

"I don't know where Nuada is, but he's alive," Grace finally answered. Her voice was shaking, but her eyes were solid as stone. Thamuz knew she had no intentions of handing over that knife.

The creature stared at Grace so hard it literally hurt, golden eyes darkening to a strange shade of liquid amber, seeming to almost drip onto her flesh as he looked over her. "You are one of his kind," it snarled. "Do you belong to Nuada? Does my warrior claim you as a mate?"

 _Mate? Like a person on a boat wearing one of those cute little white outfits? Oh no he meant "mate" as in like animals have mates . . . as in a pair of animals? . . . like animals like pet animals? . . . like was Grace his pet? . . . like did Grace belong to Nuada and she was his pet? . . . like did Fido Fucker own Grace as one of his little pet whores?_

Well, didn't take long for Grace's mind to run through that little offensive scenario, and if it was possible for her to glow any brighter, she certainly did. Mate = Now, officially the most offensive word in the English language.

The creature stepped closer, vulturous eyes narrowed to slits, shifting from her to the knife and back again. "Does Amarande Nuada Karayane claim you human?" It demanded, every muscle strained and bulging with anger. Thamuz did not tolerate being ignored or disrespected by any creature in any realm, and her lack of immediate responses was infuriating him. The only reason Grace still lived was because the answer to his question might be yes. A Dark Realm Warrior would never touch the property of another.

Grace's mouth was still not working, but her brain was running races, processing his words at double time. Does Nuada claim the human? Hell if she knew, but he certainly claimed something else. Nuada claimed the right for Grace to slap him in the face the next time she saw his sorry ass.

"HUMAN, answer or die!" the creature roared, vibrating every pane of glass in that beach house, causing Grace to instinctively clamp her hands over her ears. The eyes had darkened yet again, now the color of stale urine, putrid and foul. His breath burned even against the warm humid air flowing in from the open sliding glass doors, so hot with fire it steamed the air when it snorted from his snub nose, and the ebony claws on his fingers had extended in warning. His threatening appearance left little doubt there was only one correct answer to his question, less Grace find herself disemboweled in a moment and that knife pried from her dead hands.

"The human belongs to Nuada," Jaus interjected firmly, trying to cover for the obviously panic-stricken girl in the chair, and draw the creature's ire toward himself . . . the demon's ire to be exact.

"The human can speak for herself," Thamuz replied wickedly, "and why is a male blood drinker in the company of one of Nuada's mates?" He looked very much as if one twitch from Grace would bring him springing across that room to tear her beating heart from her chest, an assessment that was entirely accurate.

"I am a watcher, simply guarding in his stead," Jaus replied calmly, watching the demon carefully, praying it did not launch itself at Grace. The nervous vampire cleared his throat softly but insistently. If Grace would just answer the damn thing, it would leave!

"Is this true Human?" Thamuz demanded viciously, his black lips curled into an evil snarl.

"Yes, I belong to Nuada," Grace finally spat out in response. The words threatened to choke her she found them so repulsive, and she internally seethed. She'd just been publicly forced to tell some caustic, noxious smelling critter she was "one of Nuada's mates"? That blond bastard was dead the next time she saw him!

"Very well," Thamuz hissed, "but if either of you deceives me, you both die . . . and it will be a most unpleasant death to be certain." The demon instantly disappeared in a huge cloud of steam, leaving no trace save a foul lingering odor and a large scorched patch right in the middle of Jaus's beautiful hardwood floors.

Understandably, Jaus couldn't care less about his floor. The vampire was just happy to see that thing leave, but as happy as one vampire was at Thamuz's exit, another was just as disenchanted to see him appear.

*******************************

Eric Northman and Nuada had recovered from their strange Corvette hood bonding moment, and were now holed up in that back office of Fangtasia, taking turns lamenting their sad positions to one another, and desperately searching for any sign of hope toward a peaceful resolution to this catastrophe. Eric was terribly concerned about Grace calling Sookie and spouting off at the mouth about Lord Niall and that transfer, but tonight's strange episode took precedence for the moment. Nuada was positive, she must be terrified of him now, and after hearing about their unfortunate meeting, Eric agreed . . . and that brought a whole new set of concerns.

At the very least, this would make negotiating with Grace to come home much more difficult, because if she didn't trust Nuada before tonight, she sure as hell wouldn't trust him now. At the worst, it would serve to further erode her emotional state, expand on her convictions that she was in danger and force her even deeper into hiding. They were hoping with everything they had that wouldn't be the case. Knowing that Grace called Eric the night she left and was so very upset, the duo was praying she'd cave and do it again. At that particular moment, they were fiercely debating the best way to handle her phone call . . . if it ever came . . . when Thamuz came calling instead.

The weapon that demon toiled over so laboriously had effortlessly beckoned him to that Texas beach house when its owner did not return, and Thamuz located Nuada just as easily. A simple thought took him to the Dark Realm Warrior's side, a title Nuada had earned only after spending centuries learning the art of death and torture in the fiery dungeons Thamuz tended. That title earned Nuada respect . . . and that weapon . . . but both came with rules.

Walls trembled in fear when the demon appeared, the force of his anger jarring Eric's desk hard enough to toss the vampire's feet off the edge. Thamuz possessed a link to every weapon he'd ever created, and also to every warrior who'd trained under him – and lived. He materialized less than three feet from the chair containing Nuada.

"I should crush your skull . . . a dark warrior who discards his war blade to a human!" Thamuz snarled, tiny flecks of bloody spit landing on Nuada's leather tunic as the mercenary leapt to his feet, instantly facing the demon. Eric was also out of his chair, fangs bared and ready to come across that desk. From the looks of that creature, this was a fight the vampire certainly would not enjoy, but he would gladly stand beside Nuada against any enemy.

"The human belongs to me same as the blade!" Nuada growled in return, showing absolutely no fear for Thamuz whatsoever. His blond hair was strewn over the back of that black leather tunic like a halo, and he placed himself right up in that demon's face. His emerald eyes had turned blood red, alight with pure white flames of fury. "She may sleep with it if I desire, so do not tell me you have harmed her!"

Towering over Nuada by several inches, Thamuz looked down the withered skin of his nose at one of the few warriors he respected, noting the violent expression. Obviously, the human did speak the truth. "Dark Law binds me, same as you. No warrior touches what belongs to another," the demon replied harshly. "But while I will accept your word this night, I warn you Amarande Nuada Karayane . . . if you claim that female as your mate, you will take her properly or the vow will not be honored again."

His words only served to incense Nuada further, the deep scarlet stain of his eyes seeming to bleed into his very flesh as Nuada assumed an almost alarming pink flush. "I claim Erulissë, and let no creature think to challenge me." The sheer rage oozing from Nuada was palpable, even Eric finding himself surprised at his friend's reaction. A short staffed spear now rested firmly in his right hand, conjured from the very air itself, and Nuada seemed ready and willing to use it.

"It has been a long time since we sparred light one," Thamuz answered, his voice grating against the air as if it were made of blades and thorns, "so do not dare me for I will gladly accept. You disappoint me this night . . . to find a sacred armament crafted of my own hand cradled by a mortal . . . and to find a warrior's mate in the company of another male? You would do well to tend the matters of your house with more pride." It was a blatant insult, and Thamuz backed it up with a toxic glare before dissolving into the air with a resounding hiss.

Like Valentin Jaus, Eric Northman was thrilled to see that thing leave. The vampire wasn't afraid, but he wasn't stupid either. That hulking warrior demon who just appeared out of thin air commanded respect even from him. Sinking back into his chair, Eric tried to digest what just happened. The vampire was not sure he really wanted to know why a demon claimed Nuada as one of his fellow warriors, but he was dying to hear more about Nuada claiming Grace as his mate . . . that was gonna be a long cherished conversation for sure! And did he hear right that the demon went to see Grace because of Nuada's knife? The same knife Nuada held to her throat earlier tonight? Oh yeah, if Grace called, it was gonna be one hell of a conversation alright . . . he needed to send Pam out for some cotton balls, because Eric knew he would need something to stuff in his ears to muffle the ranting.

Nuada on the other hand, wasn't digesting anything. The still enraged creature was trapped in a strange emotional typhoon that was aggressively consuming his mind like a rabid wildfire. He needed to be alone. He needed time to think. With no more than a feigned attempt at a polite hand motion toward the vampire anxiously waiting for him to speak, Nauda disappeared. This had been a night from hell, capping off several days of sheer misery and the startled creature needed to collect himself.

While the guardian would have preferred to go to his secret retreat in the elven realm, Nuada forced himself to refrain. If by some miracle Grace decided to contact him, he would need to be available to take the call. Grinding his teeth in exasperation, Nuada shifted himself to the penthouse in Los Angeles, needing not to smell Grace's lingering scent at the apartment. His heart was racing, but his mind was frozen, the same words echoing over and over again. _"In the company of another male . . . "_ Grace was with another man? The very idea incensed him to a level he had rarely known, and his hands trembled as he reached for the decanter of liquor.

Nuada removed the leaden crystal stopper, even took the container into his hand, but he could not bring himself to pour. An ice cube fell to the floor, dropped by a creature who could not concentrate on even such a simple task, and it was just as well that it did . . . Crown Royal was one of the primary reasons he was in this horrible mess. Long blond hair suddenly flew out in a graceful arc as Nuada pivoted, a swift and fluid motion rotating his body as an arm encased in fire-hardened bands of muscle hurled that decanter across the room, scarlet eyes glowing as they watched it explode against the far wall.

Beyond that wall lay windows, and out of those windows shimmered the nighttime portrait of a beautiful city . . . and the image not only of the high rise containing his offices, but also the distant brick and mortar temptation that held Crash Mansion. Marching over to the glass, Nuada stared but did not see. He fumed, but his head fell and his heart grieved. Grace did not know the true reasons he sought relief at the hands of that whore, only that he had repeatedly refused her and pleasured himself in the arms of another.

How could he expect Grace not to do the same?


	42. Roaches and Rapture

Chapter 42 – Roaches and Rapture

 _"You are so dead . . ."_

The thought kept circling through the blonde's mind over and over again as silent steps made their way through the room, a hand raised, poised to strike. The trick here was to remain silent, make it across the floor, then kill before being detected.

 _"That's right . . . you just stay right there . . . don't look . . . you're not gonna know what hit you."_

Eyes narrowed as the quarry shifted slightly . . . did they see that they were being stalked? Shit. They moved . . . have to be more careful.

Only a few more steps . . . step . . . step . . . step . . . _that's right you little bastard . . . you sit right there and wait for it . . ._

Suddenly it became evident that the blonde had been detected, and the intended target tried to make a run for it, darting away as fast as possible . . . running for its very life. It wasn't gonna make it.

"Die you little sucker! Die!" Sookie screamed, slamming that rolled up newspaper against the front of her cabinet door and smashing that roach flatter than a pancake. Unfortunately, that shiny dark insect provided the perfect release for her pent up anger, and she didn't stop there, flying into an onslaught of monumental proportions.

Whack . . . wham . . . whack . . .

She was about to beat the paint off the front of the cabinet when Eric walked in. "Lover . . . what in the world are you . . ."

Eric's words faded when a chunk of bug guts flew off the newspaper, a gooey glob splatting itself squarely in the middle of his forehead, erasing all logical thought from his mind. A calm, cool hand rose to casually flick the offending speck away in displeasure, and he frowned as he reached to wipe his fingers on the nearby dishtowel. Eric hoped seeing Sookie would ease his mind after that strange demon visit and Nuada's hasty departure, but airborne insect innards certainly did not spell relief. Instead, he watched with growing concern as Sookie sank into a sobbing heap on her kitchen floor, clutching the improvised weapon in one hand while trying to stifle her painful cries with the other.

"She's never coming back Eric . . . Grace is gone . . . she hasn't even called me," Sookie heaved out between soul-wrenching sobs and sniffles.

Eric leaned down and lifted Sookie from the floor in one gentle motion, holding her in his arms as if she were weightless, kissing her tear-dampened cheek to offer consolation. He wouldn't dare tell her what happened earlier tonight. The mere mention of a demon and Grace in the same sentence would send his distraught fiancée into an emotional landslide for sure. Instead, he carried her to the bedroom, removing her clothes will well trained precision, but replacing them just as deftly with her favorite comfy pajamas.

Tucking Sookie into bed beneath a faded cotton quilt dutifully sewn by her beloved Gran, the vampire then headed for the bathroom, swiftly returning with a cool rag to pat her eyes. It was inevitable that the strain of Grace leaving was going to push Sookie over the edge . . . Eric was actually surprised it had taken this long. The two had become inseparable, and if Sookie was taking her cousin leaving this poorly, he could not imagine the shape Grace was in by now . . . and it worried him desperately.

Watching Nuada and Sookie suffer these past few days had been bad enough, but that strange little human with the sarcastic southern drawl had wormed her way well within the deepest confines of his typically reserved heart, and Eric cared very much what happened to Grace . . . nearly as much as he cared for Sookie, although in an entirely different way. He wanted to protect them both, and he wanted to strangle Niall Brigant until that fairy bled from those strange green eyes.

Easing to sit beside his still softly crying bonded companion, Eric's pale blond brows were snapped together in deep concentration, a pure scowl etching his normally blank face. "Sookie, do you blame me for this?" he asked, the concern in his voice raw and unhidden. "Do you think it is my fault somehow that Grace left . . . that she hasn't come back?"

Sookie looked at Eric uncertainly. To a point, yes she did. Things could have been handled much better by Nuada and him the night Grace left, and she was still waiting for someone to fess up the real reason her cousin bolted and ran. She was positive Eric Northman knew and was just refusing to tell her.

"I'm disappointed, Eric," she answered carefully, her voice nasally from crying. "I want someone to tell me the truth, and I want Grace to come home, but I can't help her if she won't even call me . . . I need to know what I'm up against, only I can't feel her anymore. . . I don't know what Grace is going through . . . I don't know what she's running from – or who. Something's gone wrong between her and our great-grandfather, but I have no idea what . . ."

Sookie's eyes were luminous in the soft light of the bedside lamp, shimmering with unshed tears, jerking at Eric's heartstrings like heavy metal weights as she stared over at him. "Eric . . . please tell me what you know . . . if you love me at all, tell me the truth."

Eric frowned desperately. The pure grief and worry in Sookie's voice ripped at his soul. After a thousand years of being a child of the darkness, he never intended to fall in love - but he did - and now he was fully committed to making this love work at any cost. He wanted an open and honest relationship with Sookie, and he hated hiding things from her, but if he confessed everything he knew, she was going to snap.

There simply was no gentle way to inform someone that their Fairy Lord great-grandfather was forcibly turning their cousin into a fairy mutant, and Eric knew if he backed it up with the fact Lord Niall intended the same fate for her as well - thereby leaving Sookie with the unenviable choice between being turned fairy or vampire - that beautiful southern girl was going to literally go insane. No, this was not the time . . . that was the very last resort, and he'd fess up only after every single other option available to him failed . . . and Grace damn well better not beat him to it either.

Taking her hands into his, Eric took her fingers to his lips, gently kissing the intricate engagement ring he placed there some five months prior. "Do you trust me, Sook?" Eric asked seriously.

"Why would you ask me such a thing?" Sookie demanded with her own frown, immediately feeling uneasy.

"It's a simple question. Do you trust me, Sookie?. . . Do you believe in me to keep you safe . . . to watch over you and protect you from anything that comes our way?" Eric responded.

Sookie looked at the vampire she loved, knowing that Eric Northman was being as serious in that moment as he had ever been with her in all the years they had known one another. She felt as if her future lay in that answer, and in no small way, it did.

"Yes Eric, I trust you," she answered, her heart fluttering with nerves, wondering what on earth the trust level between them had to do with Grace leaving. It was an ominous sign.

Placing another gentle caress of a kiss in her palm, Eric squeezed her hands, then laid them at her sides. He kissed her cheek, stroking her hair like a parent soothes a small child. "Good. Then stop this crying, and don't worry," he assured her firmly. "Close your eyes and go to sleep, because I promise Grace is going to come home, and everything is going to work out just fine."

"But . . ." Sookie began to protest, finding her words silenced by Eric's lips against hers. The kiss was gentle, but commanding, telling her to obey him. She relented.

"You have my word that this will all work out. Trust me lover, I intend to bring Grace home."

Sookie nodded in understanding, her throat tight with emotion. The mere thought of Grace alone and hiding somewhere crushed her, but she did believe Eric. She had no reason to doubt him.

He eased to lay beside her, pulling Sookie into the graceful curve of his body, comforting her every way he knew how. Cool hands traced along her arms, caressing from wrist to elbow, the repetition drawing her attention and softening the cascade of emotions that was gnawing at her. It was not long before Sookie's eyes grew heavy, and finally she slipped into a peaceful sleep, not even aware when Eric slipped from the bed and placed a final kiss on her cheek. He made no sound when he exited the huge white farmhouse, but his phone was to his ear before the Corvette door closed, and when Nuada did not answer, he simply dialed the number again.

Eric did not know where Grace was, and he did not know what condition she was in, but that vampire was damned and determined to find that girl and bring her back home no matter what was involved. He and Nuada were going to come up with a plan . . . and while he held no personal dislike for Cairbre, if that plan involved snatching him from the elf realm and finishing what Nuada started, Eric Northman didn't have a problem with that. He'd tortured people for information before . . . and he was willing to do it again.

*****************************

Torturing people actually seemed to be the growing theme for this Thursday night . . . that and being truly unkind to insects . . . the shiny, dark and invasive variety to be specific.

The tenacious pests from the earth realm had already managed to somehow worm their way into several other realms over the expanse of time, and at that very moment a particularly impressive roach specimen was crawling across Haldir of Lórien's desk. The marchwarden general eased his hand over, and with precise aim and a quick thump landed it directly in the center of Cairbre's chest. The poor elf shrieked like a school girl.

"Ai! Daro i! Gwanno ereb nin!" Cairbre screeched after flicking the obnoxious night crawler to the floor. "That was not humorous! Not after the night I have had!' Cairbre's heart hadn't lowered itself from his throat since waking up to find Nuada's knife pressed against it, and that little gesture was just plain mean.

"You are not concentrating, mellon nín," Haldir said firmly. "Tell me again what Nuada said." Already unimpressed at being unceremoniously snatched from a most pleasurable evening with Cerylia, the marchwarden commander was in no mood for Cairbre's notorious mental instability. He knew the poor elf warden hadn't been quite right upstairs since being taken by the Orcs a few centuries back, but that retired warden was going to have to suck it up, stretch those shriveled brain cells and speak. His mundane existence in Shreveport was ended for now – and if he wasn't careful, his entire existence would be too.

"From the beginning," Glorfindel prodded. The three elves were once again uncomfortably nestled into the warm wooden cocoon of Haldir's talan for an unpleasant discussion concerning this strange situation with Grace they were an integral part of, although thankfully, no one was shoved under the desk this time.

Sitting there nursing his still seeping nose, Cairbre closed his eyes and concentrated on the evil rasp of Nuada's mental threats tearing around and around in his mind. The mercenary had not uttered one sound, but he shoved his thoughts into Cairbre's brain with enough cruel power to make that elf's nose bleed. It had been excruciatingly painful, a blatant show of force, showing Cairbre what he had in store for him, and the trembling elf knew he would not soon forget it.

"Nuada intends to torture me," Cairbre repeated in a strangely detached voice, "and if I cannot tell him the location of his beloved Erulissë and see her immediately returned to his side, he will kill me . . . very slowly, he promised . . . and there was more. The mercenary vows if so much as one hair on her head is harmed before she is returned, he will return her injuries to me a hundred fold . . . and if she is not returned alive, he promises not one warden of Lothlórien will continue to exist when his task is complete, even if its takes all eternity."

Glorfindel and Haldir exchanged knowing looks, then the golden warrior passed an almost venomous look over at Cairbre, wanting to smack him for being so stupid. Nuada was one of the few creatures in existence brazen enough make such a bold and blanketing statement . . . and back it up. Cairbre's valiant actions might very well get them all killed before this was over, and that half-witted elf didn't seem to fully appreciate the gravity of his own situation either.

Shaking his head in disgust, Haldir drummed his fingers on the desk in irritation, passing his own condescending glare at Cairbre. The retired warden was loyal to a fault and honestly quite smart about a wide variety of things, but the poor thing was also a few straws short of a full bale in the common sense department. He never should have involved himself in this!

"You are confined to quarters only," Haldir finally ordered, "under guard, and not even a visit to the bathing pools alone unaccompanied until this ends."

Pursing his face like a small child who'd just been scolded, Cairbre sat there with linen strips stuffed up his nose, scowling at Haldir. The past few days had fallen far short from a joy ride, from being stuffed under that desk by Glorfindel to being scared out of his wits, and now his commanding officer was adding insult to injury. First Haldir threw an insect at him, and now he intended to have him confined like a prisoner, and tended to like a child? Cairbre bristled, but those deep blue eyes were unwavering, as was that hulking mass of blond-haired intimidation to his side. Frowning desperately, Cairbre reluctantly rose, finding a pair of sentries waiting to escort him back to bed. It was belittling as best, but perhaps it would hold Nuada at bay . . . at least until someone could come up with an alternate solution.

Wood meeting wood made a soft rasp as the door closed, Glorfindel shifting calculating grey eyes from his blade to his friend. "How long?"

Haldir shook his head sadly. "Possibly not even the night. There is no protection for mellon nín, not even in the confines of this sacred place. That creature owns the very shadows. Nuada will never be stopped, has never failed in a kill. Cairbre is as dead as the vampire he spoke of." Shaking that golden mane in disgust, Glorfindel wondered when this would all end, and how many people would die before it was over. He wished he could think of one positive thing in any of this . . . and suddenly his ancient mind did!

"The Pinilyaer is hiding from Lord Niall and distrustful of Nuada, but perhaps if we found Grace and assured her safety, we could soothe her into some type of negotiation . . . work out a way to return her home, and thereby sate her guardian." Glorfindel offered. "Grace is very angry with you, but I believe she would speak to me . . . maybe even to Lord Elrond, since she seems to be particularly fond of him. There must be a way to bring everyone together, and surely some compromise can be reached between the girl and her great-grandfather."

"I have no way to find Grace," Haldir reminded Glorfindel in a discouraged tone. "The ring blocks our bond completely. Perhaps if this pendant had not come my way with the force of a raging warg, I could have tracked her through it, but as it now lies within my grasp, I can do nothing. And what mellon nín, would make you think if Nuada cannot locate Grace, that we can? That mercenary is the best tracker who draws breath!"

"We have information that creature does not," Glorfindel answered smugly, his thick blonde brows arching up suggestively.

A surreptitious smile crept across Haldir's face, as the elf slowly began to catch on to what Glorfindel was suggesting . . . and while he had no way of knowing it, his feelings were identical to Eric Northman's. Both Haldir and Glorfindel were damned and determined to find Grace and bring her back home no matter what was involved . . . and it seemed they already had the beginnings of their plan. Seemed the elves just might be planning another kidnapping here in the very near future . . . only this time it wouldn't be a human girl . . . it was gonna be a vampire.

****************************************

Perhaps if Valentin Jaus had known of Glorfindel and Haldir's wicked plans, he may have been more concerned, but then he had enough to worry about already. Thrilled when that demon left, Jaus's first instinct was to take Grace into his arms and comfort her, but those flickering blue flames were easily enough to keep him at bay, as was the warning burning in those nearly black eyes she leveled at him. Jaus wisely interpreted that glare as Grace's not so subtle way of telling him any attempt to touch her would offend rather than soothe, and he was absolutely correct. No matter the circumstances, Grace did not intend to find herself in the arms of any man other than Amarande Nuada . . . he might be a consummate asshole, but she loved him . . . although at that particular moment, she was seriously contemplating killing him.

The odd pair had retired to the kitchen island to talk, suddenly finding the suntan oil stain on the refrigerator much less offensive than the large burnt spot in the middle of the den floor. Stains and spots aside, Grace was taking nothing about this entire evening particularly well.

"It was a what?" Grace snapped sarcastically.

"A demon," Jaus repeated patiently for the third time, wondering when Grace was going to believe him. He had seen demons before . . . tonight was not the first time.

Snorting cigarette smoke through her nose, Grace looked at Jaus incredulously. "A demon . . ." she practically giggled. Why should it come as a surprise that a demon was just standing in that beach house with her? She was, after all, talking to a five hundred year old dead man who drank blood to stay alive . . . after recently being accosted by an elf. It sounded worse than a bad sci-fi movie plot.

"You doubt that was a demon, yet you expect me to believe in elves?" Jaus countered in a condescending tone. Logan had told his brother about the elves, trying to coherently explain their unique ability to disappear and reappear without notice, although Jaus felt he had failed somewhat in that endeavor. The Texas vampire had never seen a real live elf – and he'd only seen a fairy once. He'd never seen anything outside of a demon appear out of thin air, and being a naturally skeptical creature, it left a lot of room for interpretation . . . but regardless of his personal doubts, Jaus still needed Grace to understand the gravity of having a demon pissed off at you . . . and respect that knife in her hand before something very bad happened.

"You're telling me that some burly spirit from down under has a hard-on for Nuada's knife enough to come marching in this den and threaten to kill me over it? That seems a bit much, don't you think? More likely, it's one of Lord Niall or Nuada's sick damn tricks to scare me into going back home. Prove it was a demon," Grace growled out, slamming Nuada's knife against the granite with a harsh metallic clang for dramatic effect.

"I don't know what the _burly spirit's_ issue with that knife is, but if that creature didn't scare you, it certainly scared me . . . now please, don't do that again," Jaus said forcefully. The last thing they needed was for the demon to come back, and prove he was real by killing Grace to silence her smart mouth!

"I didn't say he didn't scare the shit out of me . . . but I'm not going home even if he comes back and dances on the damn counters!" Grace answered hatefully, smacking that knife against the granite yet again. Tonight's events had put Grace firmly in bitch mode, and as ridiculously brazen as the thought may have been, if that demon crawled his scary ass back into that house with her, Grace intended to crush him into a nice little pile of mahogany colored dust . . . and at that particular moment, she was actually pissed off enough to do it – or at least come pretty darn close.

To prove her point yet again, Grace took that knife and started smacking it against that granite countertop repeatedly, hoping somehow, somewhere Nuada knew she was doing it . . . and he did . . . because every time the shimmering metal of that blade met stone, Nuada felt as if someone hit him over the head with an anvil. Grace was just ruining his calming meditation . . . and she wasn't exactly endearing herself to him either.

"If you continue to abuse that weapon, that demon may very well return . . . he obviously holds some bond to it . . . just as you claim to share a bond with these elves," Jaus warned seriously.

"Yes, but while you can't prove that was a demon, I CAN prove there are elves," Grace offered in a smart ass tone, pointing to the cloak thrown across the bar stool next to where the vampire was seated. "Elf cloak . . . see for yourself."

Jaus had a disbelieving look as he took Haldir's cloak from the barstool where Grace had thrown it days before, and he looked over it very carefully, even smelling it. "It reminds me of garments long past," he murmured, but while it did indeed remind him of the cloaks he wore centuries ago when he was a knight, but from the actual thread fibers to the oddly woodsy scent, that garment was entirely different from anything he'd ever seen before. It did not seem to be of this world.

Running firm hands over every inch of it, Jaus suddenly stopped, rummaging about for a moment, then removing a small fold of paper secured with a leather tie. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, showing it to Grace. It was a small piece of very old and elaborate looking yellowish colored parchment paper, that had been tied into a tiny scroll with a thin leather cord. It looked important.

She shook her head, no.

Gingerly untying it, Jaus ran curious eyes over the paper, unable to decipher the odd writing, never having seen such a language before. "Very unusual," he said, rubbing the paper between his fingers.

"Probably a love note," Grace said offhandedly, lighting another cigarette. She hadn't honestly paid that cloak any attention. All she knew was that Glorfindel wrapped her in when they left the marchwarden camp. She didn't have any idea which elf it belonged to, and she didn't really care either.

"I don't think this is a simple note," Jaus answered in a very serious tone. "I can literally feel the power emanating from this piece of paper."

Spreading it out very carefully on the sparkling granite, he ran experienced eyes over it, taking specific note of the way each line contained exactly the same number of words, how the spacing was all the same, and he could tell from the spelling that they rhymed. "I believe this is a spell of some sort," he announced.

Grace looked at Jaus strangely. Elven spells, on little slivers of paper in hidden cloak pockets? "Give me that cloak," she demanded, almost snatching it out of his hand when Jaus offered it across the counter. Now Grace was the one sniffing the fabric, and there was no doubt after she did who that cloak belonged to, the thick woodsy smell unmistakable. That cloak belonged to Haldir of Lorien!

"I bet it's a hiding spell," Grace said, almost to herself, remembering Haldir putting one on the pendant for her at Christmas . . . and the horrible price he extricated for it as well.

"A hiding spell," Jaus asked, "meaning what? Please explain."

Grace obligingly gave Jaus the fifteen minute explanation of the cloaking spells she'd been placed under by Cairbre and then later by Haldir, then she told him about that thin golden ring on her finger – how a great wizard from the elven realm had created it with the sole intent of blocking her bond to Haldir of Lorien – and how they got together and played with it one day. When she finished, Grace could easily tell that vampire's head was about to explode. Demons, fairies and elves . . . magic spells and different realms . . . perhaps Jaus was a little less enthusiastic about Logan's gracious offer of help now, huh?

Jaus's mind was working overtime, his thoughts traveling far back in time to another place, another period in time when witchcraft was common and spells were powerful, even in the human realm. "Even if this is one of the elf kind cloaking spells, what could you possible do with it?" he asked very matter-of-factly. "You have that ring, and according to your explanation it is supposed to possess the ultimate power to block you from these fairies and elves . . . yet Nuada was only hours before standing in this very kitchen with you. What connection do you share with Nuada that he could be using to track you? Have you taken that ring off, and just not bothered to mention it? Or is there something between you and your Nuada that you are not telling me?"

The vampire was leaning forward now, resting his elbows on the granite and staring at Grace oddly, almost as if looking into a Petri dish under a microscope. It made her skin crawl, but as Grace lit another cigarette and sucked on her Diet Dr. Pepper, she silently snickered . . . "your Nuada" . . . funny, very funny . . . of course if that demon thought she was his mate, didn't that make Nuada her mate in return? Hmmmm . . . intriguing thought. Regardless, she didn't take Jaus's scientific stare kindly, particularly not in combination with his somewhat accusatory tone and questioning.

"I don't know what kind of bond I have with Nuada," Grace growled in an angry reply, "but I'm not an idiot! This ring hasn't left my finger since I left the elf realm eight days ago!" Tapping the knife against the countertop in irritation, Grace's mind scrambled as her eyes locked on that ring. Maybe since the ring was made for Haldir, Nuada was immune to it . . . no, if that was the case, he'd be in her face right now, and he wasn't. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in her brain.

"The bond between me and Nuada started the night he killed my grandfather," she blurted out suddenly, "and he keeps telling me our auras are bound, and that the bond can never be broken. He said I belong to him." Frowning suddenly, Grace felt like a complete dumbass. What the fuck was an aura anyway? Instantly, she reached for her computer, and she was already typing as Jaus continued to talk.

"Nuada killed your grandfather?" Jaus asked in surprise, his alluring face creased in concentration. "And your grandfather - this is the creature from which the life essence has been captured? This is the thing Logan has explained to me, the thing you are trying to escape from? Your great-grandfather Lord Niall wishes to give you the life force of his murdered son . . .correct?"

"Yeah, something like that." Grace answered, irked just thinking about it. Ha! Here is was . . . au-ra: _noun, plural au~ras_ a subtly pervasive quality or atmosphere emanating from a person, place, or thing. a sensation, as of lights or a current of warm or cold air . . .   
Well that sure as hell explained a lot – light emanating from a person? Oh yes, Grace had that covered . . . only it wasn't subtle . . . and her little blue flickers just loved to flit their way toward Nuada . . . it was a damn fireworks show when they combined auras . . . no, there was little doubt their "emanating atmospheres" had somehow been connected to one another.  
"He is a kind and generous man, your great-grandfather," Jaus said sincerely.  
Computer instantly forgotten, Grace looked up at Jaus, stunned. "What did you say?"   
"I said that Lord Niall is a very generous man." Jaus repeated firmly, ignoring the glare Grace was now passing at him over that kitchen island.

"And exactly what makes you think that?" she snapped.

"He wishes to save you," Jaus said simply.

Grace looked at the attractive vampire incredulously, praying he was kidding . . . Logan's brother was on Niall's side? No freaking way! He might be the best looking thing since sliced bread, but obviously, she needed to stick with the other twin! "Well I'm afraid you're going to have to explain that to me, because I don't quite see it that way," Grace ground out, her expression leaving little doubt her opinion of his opinion.

Valentin Jaus met her hateful expression with a firm one of his own. "Lord Niall has lost a child . . . something obviously painful for any parent . . . yet, in death he sees life. You are a mortal - a fragile human destined to age slowly, to watch your physical form deteriorate, to possibly fall victim to any grotesque variety of diseases and wither away into a crumpled wrinkled shell of a creature before dying a miserable death. He seeks to save you from that end . . . to preserve you as you are now . . . young, beautiful and vibrant, to give you the gift of a long and glorious life. You should be most grateful."

Grace felt her stomach knot, literally feeling the coldness coming over her as his words sank in. To hear Jaus tell it, being a mortal was just the most sickening thing ever, and Grace wondered if all supernatural creatures thought about humans that way. Those eloquent words delivered in that beautifully accented voice . . . hell, his delivery of that speech would have made every creature on that terrace four nights ago proud. Jaus just outdid Haldir of Lórien with the dramatic adjectives . . . even Lord Niall himself would've been pleased.

"And did you feel that way before you got turned?" Grace asked seriously, all color now gone from her face.

Jaus leaned back on his bar stool, casually crossing his arms over his chest, drawing that expertly tailored western style shirt tight over what were quite obviously well developed muscles underneath as he studied Grace . . . she was quite creative to pose that question . . . and she knew his honest response.

Touché.

"Well, Lord Niall obviously cares for you very deeply if he thought enough to assign you a personal guardian . . . and that is what Nuada is . . . your guardian?" he asked, returning to their original topic.

"Yes, he's my guardian," Grace answered, nearly choking on the words as her fingers instinctively went to her neck, then to the empty lobes of her ears where the emerald earrings no longer resided. "My guardian who wants me dead, obviously."

Jaus gave both Grace and that knife another meticulous look . . . if Nuada wanted Grace dead, he could promise that girl her head would be on the floor . . . and that demon was convinced Grace was Nuada's mate . . .and Nuada was her guardian. Jaus shook his head in refusal. He did not accept that Nuada desired to harm her. "I know the things that happened tonight are very confusing, but Logan gave me the impression that Nuada cared for you very deeply and it is very obvious to me that you care for him in return. Do you honestly believe your guardian intends to kill you now? Why would you consider such a terrible thing? Have you done something besides leaving that would cause him to become angry with you?"

Grace flinched as her eyes hit the floor. Well gee, lets see . . . called him a Fido Fucker and embarrassed the shit out of him, threw the earrings he gave me for Christmas at him, jumped off a terrace after telling him I hated him, stole his car and tried to run over him in it, am now hiding in another state and have called once and talked just long enough to tell him I'd never trust him again . . . Nope. No reason for him to be pissed at all!

Jaus watched the emotions cross her face, knowing that her answer was a resounding yes. That still didn't mean Nuada wanted to kill her. "Does Nuada desire you? Does he seek your return? If you meant nothing to him, he would gladly let you go. I know I would," Jaus told her honestly. "But you admit he searches for you . . . and that demon was convinced you were his mate. I am positive Nuada would never desire to see his mate dead or harmed in any way."

Mate. Once again, the most offensive word in the English language.

"I'm not his fucking mate!" Grace gasped, horrified at the very thought. "Animals have mates . . . not humans."

"Do not be so offended!" Jaus scolded gently. "It is simply a word – nothing more – and much preferential to wife, which means absolutely nothing to humans since it is not uncommon to find them having two or three during their short lifetimes! For a creature such as a vampire to take a mate is a very high honor . . . just as Eric has honored Sookie by asking her to be his chosen companion. If Nuada desires to possess you in such a way, you should definitely take it as a compliment."

Twirling Nuada's knife slowly in her hands, Grace said nothing, but her face clearly showed she most certainly did not take being called Nuada "mate" as a compliment. Goldilocks the Fido Fucker desired to possess her did he? Well, she had a whole heaping load of desire for Nuada right here, and he could just come and get some! She'd shove that entire Jaguar sitting outside he took as payment for possessing her right up his creamy white ass! Besides, who the hell knew what Nuada wanted at this point? Contemplating that, her anger was becoming palpable, and those gentle blue flickers were becoming much more pronounced. Jaus could tell she was about to explode.

"Might I make a suggestion without offending you?" Jaus asked, silently praying she'd take it.

"I don't offend that easy, so go ahead," Grace answered, finishing up that cigarette, and immediately lighting another one. Thank god she bought a whole carton.

"Instead of sitting here being furious . . . instead of hiding and trying to guess what is it Nuada wants from you . . . why don't you just call him and talk to him? And while you're at it, call your great-grandfather too . . . speak to the two of them and see if you can reach some compromise. I firmly believe that neither of them wishes you harm."

"You turning into a hostage negotiator now?" she asked sarcastically.

Jaus looked at her gently. "Grace, I have been entrusted with the care of people in the past, and believe me . . . if Nuada takes his position as your guardian seriously, let there be no doubt in your mind that he will hunt you to the ends of the earth to bring you back . . . and if he does indeed believe that you belong to him or if he does desire you as his mate, his feelings are only going to fuel his determination. Negotiating a truce, and going back willingly will always be preferential to being taken by force."

"Well if I go back it will be by force, because Nuada is only hunting me so he can give me back to Lord Niall!" Grace nearly screamed in return. If she heard the fucking word "force" one more time, she was gonna slap the shit out of somebody! Enraged by this ridiculous situation she was trapped in, Grace got up, stalking over to the window to stare out of it with her arms crossed over her chest. She never asked for any of this crap to happen to her, and it simply was not fair what was being demanded of her now.

Jaus frowned as he watched her seethe in anger, but her absence provided an opportunity, and he seized it. Deftly plucking his brother's cell phone from the counter, Jaus scanned the recent numbers and easily found Nuada's. It was the last call made, and he easily committed the number to memory. If Grace would not negotiate with these people, perhaps he would simply have to do it on her behalf.

Silently replacing the phone, he called to her, "Grace?"

She ignored him.

"Grace?" he insisted. "Grace, please don't be angry with me for speaking the truth. I apologize if I offended you . . . your relationship with Nuada is none of my business. But please remember what I said . . . you cannot fault your great-grandfather for desiring to save his family members from death. Given the opportunity, I would most certainly do the same without regret. Now please promise me that you will at least consider speaking with him, even if you choose not to contact Nuada."

Grace didn't turn back to face him because she did not want him to see her tears, but she nodded her agreement. She would consider making some calls in the morning . . . if nothing else, she would at least call Sookie.

Jaus said nothing else, just offered a gentle squeeze to her shoulder before slipping silently from the house and heading that Range Rover home. When he arrived, he had a call to make because if Grace wouldn't talk to Nuada, he certainly would.

*********************************************

Outside of Shreveport, Eric Northman had already made his fair share of calls for the night, and as he stood enjoying the perfect sanctuary of a rural cemetery, he was impatiently waiting for them to pay off. Only the barest caress of light from a crescent moon broke the darkness, and only the crickets chirping broke the silence, but Eric paid neither any attention. His mind was consumed with much more important things than his location, and while his visit to see Sookie had not eased his mind, the stillness of this graveyard did. There was something oddly comforting in the neat rows of tombstones, almost as if someone was trying to bring order to the chaotic thing called death, and it provided much needed order to the chaos snapping at his elderly soul.

Once again Nuada was late, although thankfully, he was not flying through the air when he appeared this time. The powerful creature simply stepped from the shadows of an enormous oak tree, almost as if he had seeped from the very bark itself. His bare chest glowed in the pale light, and his entire being seemed to reek with an air of foreboding. Eric had sensed a deep darkness from his friend at Fangtasia, although the feeling had been fleeting since Nuada only remained for a moment after the demon disappeared, but now it was definitive . . . an oppressive evil that skirted your senses and made the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention. Nuada refused to meet his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Eric asked sincerely, quietly stepping around a large tombstone, cool fingers tracing the still sun-warmed surface of its gently rounded top. He had originally suggested they meet at the abandoned warehouse for privacy, but Nuada refused because it reminded him of Grace . . . every place Eric suggested did . . . so finally they decided on this graveyard. It was private, and neutral.

"No," Nuada answered honestly. His body was deliberately turned at an angle to Eric's, his face carefully shielded by the shadows. Nuada knew his eyes still blazed red with angry flames, and he did not care to explain why. He had been trying to meditate to calm himself and dispel them, but that proved impossible when Eric called for the seventh time demanding he return to Shreveport. The interruption had only served to fan the flames.

"You haven't seen that demon again, have you?" the concerned vampire asked.

"No," Nuada answered again, although if he was not very careful, he knew he would . . . and soon.

"Do you owe allegiance to him for something?" Eric asked curiously. "You wouldn't talk to me on the phone, so talk to me now. Tell me what's happening! Why is that demon suddenly involved in this, and why was he referring to your war blade that way?"

"I would speak carefully of that creature, mellon nín." Nuada warned solemnly. "That is Thamuz, Lord of Weaponry in the Dark Realm, and Master Trainer in the art of torture. For centuries did he instruct me in certain . . . things . . . and in honor of my success, he crafted my war blade. To possess such a weapon is a great tribute of skill. That blade was my reward for surviving to make my thousandth kill, and as the one who formed the metal with sacred spells, Thamuz will hold claim to it for eternity . . . and that claim comes with certain rules. If the weapon ever falls from my possession for over one hours time, I am assumed dead. Thamuz then comes to reclaim the weapon, avenge my death and retrieve my carcass for disposal," Nuada answered matter-of-factly.

Eric looked at Nuada curiously . . . thousandth kill . . . very impressive, but Nuada had made mention of having that knife for millennia. The intrigued vampire asked his next question with a bit of hesitation, positive he already knew the answer. "Did he also craft that odd spear you're so fond of?"

"The spear was rewarded at a later time, for a somewhat more . . . outstanding achievement," Nuada answered somewhat reluctantly, hoping Eric would not press for him to expound on that answer. To say he was a prolific mercenary was an understatement, and five thousand years was a very long time to rack up a service record. Eric really did not want to know how many creatures Nuada had executed in his lifetime. No one did.

Thankfully, Eric accepted his friend's words without prejudice - Viking's weren't exactly known for the gentile habits either, and while Eric did not keep track of the lives he had taken during his thousand-year tenure as a vampire, it was also an impressive number to say the least. Modern times might be kinder to his species, but long years past, it was kill or be killed, and Eric Northman was still very much alive – or as alive as a vampire could be. Push come to shove, he'd kill in a heartbeat.

"Never fear to speak of your accomplishments to me, friend," Eric told him kindly. "My life hasn't been as long, but it's been riddled by death very much the same as yours. We'll compare kills another time, but for now, tell me why Thamuz would think you're dead? He was ranting about your blade and a human . . . which I'm assuming is Grace. Don't tell me he got that mad because you held your knife to a human's throat!"

Feeling the heat rise in his face, Nuada began to stare up at the moss in the trees like it was suddenly the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. He completely ignored Eric's repeated throat clearing, until his friend came a little closer, cool blue eyes staring him down like that vampire was about to pounce on him. "Nuada . . . what aren't you telling me?" Eric pressed. "I just left Sookie in shambles, and I've promised her I will get Grace returned home, and I intend to do that very thing. Now talk to me . . . tell me what is going on, so we can come up with a plan."

Nuada began to pace in agitation, as a nervous hand came up to swipe humid sweat droplets from his forehead, slinging the moisture away in disgust. "I didn't just hold my knife to Erulissë's throat," he reluctantly admitted.

Blond eyebrows flew up in surprise and that vampire's throat got cleared again, only it was a whole lot louder and more demanding that time. Eric was realizing there was a whole lot more to this story than he got in his office earlier, and it pissed him off . . . they were not supposed to be hiding things from one another!

"What the fuck did you do?" Eric demanded loudly. "Did you hurt Grace?"

The words bit at Nuada. The mercenary was already painfully aware that his actions could easily have resulted in Thamuz killing her . . . and his hand instinctively found its way to brush against his neck as he relived the afternoon. His heart froze when he felt a slight sting, and it was as if time crawled in slow motion as he licked a thumb then traced it against the slight welt he felt there . . . the fingertip was stained with traces of blood when he drew it away, and Nuada suddenly realized his blade had marked Grace's neck. Furious at himself, the control he was fighting so hard to retain slipped. Bark exploded when Nuada twirled around and planted his fist against that oak tree, a primeval shriek of pure rage tearing from his throat. He wanted to tear his very soul out and offer it as penance for being so ignorant.

"Of course, I did not harm Erulissë," Nuada finally groaned out in reply, the technical lie threatening to choke him, as he leaned against the tree as if it were the only thing holding him up, "but I have placed her in harm's way just the same. I am a trained warrior of ancient origins who dropped his own knife out of surprise . . . at seeing a girl! Thamuz went to see Grace, because she now has my war blade and I cannot imagine what happened between them, nor can I begin to contemplate what her reaction has been."

Eric stared at him oddly, contemplating each revealing word Nuada just offered in explanation. Sookie often joked about Nuada being a dumbass so far as Grace was concerned, and the vampire had to admit - at this moment the sentiment seemed oddly appropriate. Mr. Master Knife Slinger over there got scared when he saw his girlfriend and dropped his knife? How stupid! . . . or was it? Suddenly a lightbulb went off in Eric's brain.

"This is actually a good thing!" Eric blurted out excitedly. "If that demon can track your knife, and that knife is with Grace, then he can tell us where she is . . . so you just summon his ugly ass back here and ask him where she is . . . We'll go get her right now!"

Nuada lurched away from that tree, whirling around to face Eric, not even caring if he saw his burning red eyes or not. "I can't ask Thamuz to tell me where Erulissë is, he will make me eat that war blade!" Nuada hissed, wondering if Eric had gone completely insane. "Have you any idea what that demon will do to me if he finds out that one of the best warriors he ever trained has been tricked by a human girl? That a mercenary who doles out torture and death like holiday sweets has lost a ward I stand guard over and cannot find her? My reputation will be destroyed . . . I will be the laughing stock of eight realms!"

Nuada began to pace again, snapping to and fro, his hair swinging wildly with every turn. He was agitated to an almost infinite level . . . and he was desperate to take it out on someone. He wanted to go back to that elf realm, he wanted to take hold of Cairbre, and he wanted to cut that elf into tiny little pieces . . . better yet, he wanted to find whoever this "male" was that was keeping Grace company, and he wanted to gut him like a fish. His pacing grew more frantic, and it was beginning to agitate Eric.

That vampire did not give one iota about Nuada's personal discomfort at the moment, but he cared a whole heaping lot for Sookie's, and that blonde waitress from Bon Temps wasn't doing worth a crap. Watching her cry put Eric in the same frame of mind Nuada was currently in. He wanted Grace back home and his fiancée happy again . . . now.

"Well if he can track the damn thing, why can't you?" Eric demanded loudly, resisting the urge to join in with the pacing.

"Why can't I track the damn thing?" Nuada bit out sarcastically, mocking his friend as he threw his hands in the air. "Well Eric . . . I can _typically_ track the damn thing . . . but do you really think I would be standing here in this cemetery with you if I had the ability to be with Erulissë right now? Or do you think I simply prefer to look like a jackass?"

Eric gave him his best blank vampire stare. From dumbass to jackass in under sixty seconds . . . damn . . . if Eric had to choose just one . . . hmmmmmm. "Well do enlighten me then. It is your knife . . . why can't you track it?" he asked sarcastically.

Nuada stopped pacing to meet Eric's imploring gaze. He was embarrassed to the point of mortification, and when he answered, his stammering voice was so low Eric could barely hear him over the gentle insect noises. "My war blade . . . Olótëare . . . it . . . it . . . it is ignoring me," he reluctantly admitted.

Eric stared at Nuada in complete disbelief . . . his friend simply had to be kidding! A magic knife with a mind of its own? Well, wasn't that just par for the course in this screwed up scenario!

"You have got to be shitting me!" Eric suddenly burst out, falling into an all out rant. "Of all the people on the planet I could've picked to be friends with, how the hell did I manage to pick the cursed one? Because with all the strange shit that happens to you, that's the only thing I can think of to explain it! You were actually touching Grace not three hours ago, but did you grab her? Bring her home? Oh noooooo . . . that would be MUCH too simple for my blond friend! Instead, you dropped your knife, causing a demon to believe you are dead, who then showed up and threatened to kill you when he found out you weren't! Then you tell me this demon knows where Grace is . . . but you don't . . . and you can't ask him where Grace is, because then he really WILL kill you . . . and now to put the freaking cherry on top, you tell me your god damned knife is ignoring you?" Eric raked Nuada with one of Sookie's infamous stupid disease glares, backing it up with some true Grace style sarcasm. "We're not even gonna talk about that shit on the hood of my car earlier tonight, but you've really got some fucking problems don't you?" he sneered. "You plan to explain to me just how in hell a _knife_ can ignore somebody? Does the damn thing sing and dance too? Or does it just think for itself, speak to demons and tell you to _piss off_ for entertainment?"

Amarande Nuada looked at Eric Northman like he was gonna fly across those tombstones and strangle him to death. The vampire had no idea the forces he was struggling against! Contemptuous eyes glowed like embers, and when Nuada answered, his voice trembled with raw fury. "My war blade is doing exactly what it is designed to do, right to the very last letter of the sacred spells etched upon it," he retched out viciously. "For eternity, that weapon is commanded to follow the bidding of my very soul, and what my soul wants more than anything else is to be with Erulissë . . . I want to be with her, so my dagger wants to be with her . . . it is quite simple actually."

Eric felt his fingers involuntarily tighten around the top edge of that grave marker he was casually resting against, suddenly feeling as if he could crush it to dust with his bare hands. "Simple?" he blurted out incredulously. "Well there's just one big fat difference between you and that knife, or hadn't you noticed? _Look around_ Nuada . . . you're HERE . . . and it's THERE!"

Nuada's eyes spit flames against the darkness as he growled out his reply. "Yes Eric . . . and if I was THERE and you told me to come back HERE, I would tell you to FUCK OFF . . . same as the blade is telling me!"

Opening his mouth to say something else entirely unflattering, Eric wisely closed it again. It would do absolutely no good for the two of them to get into a screaming match tonight in the middle of a cemetery. Much better to focus on the problem at hand. It took untold amounts of intestinal fortitude, but Eric forced himself to settle, before calmly continuing. "Fine . . . the knife if bound to you . . . it wants what you want – to be with Grace . . . I get it . . . but if your connection with that blade is so strong, and it won't come back here to you, why can't you just go to it?"

"I. Do. Not. Know." Nuada growled out, using Sookie's sarcastically effective sentiment from several days earlier. "Perhaps Erulissë is blocking me with that damn ring of Gandalf's! Or perhaps it is something else entirely . . . I do not know what happened between us over these last few days, but Erulissë has taken hold of me somehow. She read my thoughts in Rivendell . . . actually jerked me out of the elf realm then threw me at your car. It is like Erulissë has me bound in chains and can force me to do her bidding now! It is something to do with our bond, but I do not know what. Perhaps it is because she is stronger now since this last transfer of essence . . . but the reason is irrelevant! Whatever strength she now holds, I am powerless against it. It seems I can do nothing outside of stand here and wait for her to call, or to throw me against something again."

"Well, while you're waiting, is that demon coming back?" Eric demanded. "Because if there's another secret time limit, I'd like to know about it before HellBoy decides to come crashing into my office, and I nearly fall out of my chair on my ass again!"

"If you are alive, there is a no set time limit to reclaim your weapon that I am aware of, but then I would not know, since I have never managed to lose mine before!" Nuada grated out. "And law or not, I have no doubt his patience will wear thin in a very short time if I do not retrieve it. The only reason Thamuz did not kill Erulissë tonight, is because I claimed her as my mate. It grants her the right to touch my property . . . as my slave."

Well that little revelation sure broke the mood. Eric stared at Nuada across that cemetery like he was tripping on V-juice, and it was all he could do not to start laughing. Grace, mate and slave all in one sentence? Oh hell yeah, he wanted to be there for that conversation. He was gonna bring popcorn and Pam's video camera, because that was gonna be a Kodak moment if there'd ever been one . . . and he couldn't wait to tell Sookie, just to see the expression on her face!

"And just what would give that demon the idea Grace is your . . . mate?" Eric finally asked, trying desperately to keep the humor out of his voice as he lingered over that last word.

It was certainly not a humorous situation, but Grace being referred to as "mate" sure as hell was, and Eric knew Nuada would be lucky to come out of this in one piece when that girl got her hands on him. Nuada wholeheartedly agreed – Grace was gonna tear his ass apart when they finally did get back together - but he knew something else too. If he didn't get that damn war blade back, he was gonna be lucky to come out of this alive period, and not just because of Thamuz. His bond with that weapon went much deeper than Eric realized . . . that weapon didn't just listen to his soul, it was bonded to it - a part of the essence of his being, a piece of himself . . . that war blade was the equivalent of a Nuada voodoo doll, and that mercenary knew in his heart he was screwed six ways to Sunday if Grace managed to figure that out.

"Nuada!" Eric called loudly, seeing that his friend was zoning. "You didn't answer me . . . what would give that demon the idea Grace is your mate?"

Turning his focus back on Eric, Nuada literally cringed, not even wanting to think about the scenario he knew had recently played out between Thamuz and Grace. "Thamuz should have sensed the bond between us, but whether he did or did not is irrelevant - according to custom, Thamuz must ask Erulissë if she belongs to me, and she must verbally respond with her affirmation in order for him to accept the answer and excuse her."

Eric eyebrows went for the sky, and he damn near snorted. He was buying extra butter and spare memory cards for that camcorder! "You mean to tell me that Grace had to look that demon in the face and tell him she was your property to stay alive?"

Nuada face had fallen into a painful grimace as he nodded, "Yes, and I can only imagine what Erulissë will say to me when we speak again."

"Well instead of debating what she's going to call you when she calls you, I'd rather come up with a plan to get Grace back here so she can do it in person," Eric said firmly, silently adding to himself . . . _"so I can watch!"_ . . . "Now, let's talk about Cairbre."

Nuada's eyes lit up like a bonfire at the enticing mention of that elf's name, but before their conversation could progress, his cell phone began to ring. It was a blocked caller id, so Nuada waited until Eric had rushed to his side close enough to hear before answering. It must be Grace, and he knew this was gonna hurt.

"Erulissë?" he said expectantly, carefully listening for any sound of weeping, anything to let him know if he'd harmed Grace, positive she was scared senseless.

"We need to speak of your woman," the odd male voice said matter-of-factly.

"Who is this?" Nuada demanded instantly, fighting to keep his voice somewhat even. He knew if this was the man "in her company" calling to taunt him, or if someone had hold of Grace and intended to harm or ransom her, Thamuz would be able to use their death as a teaching example in his future torture and pain infliction classes when he got finished with them.

"A friend . . . perhaps to you bot," Jaus answered, his own voice just as flat and even as Nuada's. "You've frightened Grace with your actions, as did that demon who came calling on behalf of that strange weapon you left behind. I'd like to know your intentions. Do you intend to kill her as she believes? Or has there been some misunderstanding?"

"I would never harm Erulissë, nor on my very life will that demon!" Nuada exclaimed heatedly, incapable of keeping the emotion from filling his voice. "Know that there has been a terrible misunderstanding . . . so saes, you must tell me if Erulissë has been harmed in any way . . . Tell her she must speak with me . . . I know the demon must have frightened her, as did my blade touching her . . . I need to hear her voice tell me that she is well . . . "

The obviously genuine concern coming from Nuada both pleased and relieved Jaus. He could easily tell Nuada's intentions toward Grace were not harmful ones, and he gently interrupted the obviously distraught creature. "Please do not worry, I take you at your word," Jaus assured him, "and while I will not tell you where she is, I will tell you that Grace is safe and being watched over. No one will hurt the girl, you have my word in return. Now as for her condition, she received no more than a scratch from your blade . . . it hurt her feelings much more than her actual skin. And as for the demon, let me simply say that Grace was quite agitated by his appearance."

Only Eric's hand on Nuada's arm kept him sane when that man told him he would not reveal Grace's location, and Nuada could feel the fires of desperation building within his very veins. He did not know how he would control himself if he did not find Grace and soon. He simply had to hold her in his arms, tell her he loved her . . . and apologize for each and everything he had done.

"Who are you to assure her safety to me? I am the guardian to Erulissë, and I insist you tell me where she is!" Nuada nearly screamed. "Tell me what you want from me, and you shall have it!"

"I want nothing from you, outside of information as to your intentions," Jaus answered calmly. "I find myself involved in this . . . situation . . . and I prefer to receive my knowledge firsthand. As I told you before, Grace is safe and I am encouraging her to speak with both you and her great-grandfather, to try to reach a compromise. She is resistant, but I believe I can persuade her. Is that acceptable to you?"

"There is nothing acceptable to me, outside of her return to my side . . . Erulissë is mine! " Nuada growled out viciously, ignoring Eric's attempts to calm him. He was fighting for control, and losing . . . the man on the other end of that phone had either recently been with Grace, or was at that very moment looking at her. He seethed with fury.

"So the demon spoke the truth? Grace is your property?" Jaus asked curiously. He already knew what the answer would be, but he could not resist savoring his advantage at least a little at Nuada's expense . . . and it was certainly at Nuada's expense, because on the other end of that phone, Nuada was about to spontaneously combust.

"Have no doubt, Erulissë belongs to me," Nuada hissed, his voice dripping with venomous warning. "We are bound, and I claim her in this realm and all others. The one who thinks to share her, dies."

Jaus suddenly found himself smiling softly as he popped open a bottle of warm TrueBlood and took a much needed drink. It had been a very long time since he had known the sensation of love, but it was still a remarkable thing to witness. "I do not intend to attempt to share your woman," he told Nuada very matter-of-factly, "and if I did, I fear I would find myself in harm's way by her hand. Grace does not understand many of your actions, but she remains loyal to you just the same. Now, rest easy. Your woman is safe, and we will be speaking again." Without another sound, Jaus ended the call, leaving Nuada standing in the middle of that cemetery in a complete state of flux.

On the one hand the mercenary was so angry he could have literally torn that ancient oak down with his bare hands, but yet Jaus's words offered a strange comfort. Nuada did not know why, but he felt he could believe the man on that telephone that he would indeed keep Grace safe . . . and in spite of everything, Grace remained loyal to him. It was more news than he ever hoped to receive this night, and as Nuada clutched that cell phone to his chest and leaned against the tree for support, he drew his first honest breath in hours.

Nuada said very little in return to Eric's soothing sentiments, but he did promise that they would discuss Cairbre in further detail tomorrow night before accepting his friend's words of advice to return to the Shreveport apartment. Perhaps being close to Grace's things would help to ease his mind . . . he could return to meditation . . . try again to calm himself and maybe by some miracle, Grace might actually contact him.

**************************************

Well, unfortunately for Nuada, returning to that apartment did not ease his mind. A glance in the mirror revealing a thin red line against the flesh of his neck sent him reeling, and the lingering scent of tangerines and flowers only served to stoke the flames burning in his very soul . . . but he was right on one account. Grace did contact him later that night, but most certainly not in any way Amarande Nuada could have imagined.

Neither meditation nor a half-hearted attempt at sleep had served to quiet his mind, so now in the very depths of an endless night, Nuada stood in the perfect darkness of a lightless, windowless black granite bathroom, bathing himself in rivers of ice, while praying for peace. Loss of control was something Nuada very rarely experienced, yet he found himself teetering on the edge and threatening to fall.

Freezing water plummeted against porcelain flesh in a vain attempt to quench the fire burning in Nuada's very soul, but it did nothing to calm the firestorm threatening to consume him. His eyes had never resumed their natural emerald hue. Their dual echoes of eerie crimson shone against the shower wall, broken only when he blinked. It was a sign of rage. While his mind had accepted Jaus's words over the telephone earlier, his heart flatly refused, and he found himself drowning in the pure unquenched desire to kill . . . overwhelmed by the burning need to destroy the man keeping Grace company . . . to claim the female which was rightfully his.

Despite the chunks of wet hair clinging to his shivering flesh, Nuada's mind refused to relent the very same way his eye color did. His stomach churned, almost as if he would retch, the very idea of another man's hands touching the flesh of his beloved Erulissë was enough to make him gag. He had been so stupid. After thousands of years of hiding who he was, a fragile human girl had unconditionally accepted him. Grace had taken him without conditions, chosen to love him and offered him everything she was . . . and instead of accepting it, he had betrayed her trust. Miserable from the inside out, Nuada knew as he stood there in the darkness, that Grace could never hate him for the things he had done nearly as much as he hated himself.

Nuada had no idea how long he stood there, but eventually he realized that while the water was still miserably cold, he actually felt quite warm. Frowning, he shifted slightly, easing farther under the spray, forcing the icy tendrils to snake down every inch of his body, to intentionally torture broad shoulders, the carved flesh of his stomach, the muscular length of his legs. It did not help, and with every passing moment, the heat within him grew. Mind searching desperately for a reason, Nuada suddenly came to a startling conclusion. Grace had his war blade – and his earlier words to Thamuz came echoing back . . . _The human belongs to me same as the blade. She may sleep with it if I desire_ . . . It seemed perhaps Grace intended to do that very thing!

Unable to sleep after the night's strange events, Grace lay awake on South Padre Island in the center of a huge bed, nestled deep within a pile of pillows. Her grey eyes glowed against the flickering light of a single candle, watching the dancing light reflect against the images in Nuada's blade. Consumed by loneliness as she was, that weapon represented the only link she currently had to Nuada, and it fascinated her.

So many times had Grace stared at that evil weapon, as she watched Nuada in the third story gym of that luxury apartment building flinging it to and fro, seeing the light glint against the unusual markings etched down its gleaming sides. For hours Grace had watched him ease that silver surface carefully against the sharpening stone, Nuada's eyes never shifting as he made love to that weapon in his hand, caressing it as if it were speaking to him. There had been times Grace herself had wished she was that very knife to be treasured so deeply, but at that particular moment, she found those thoughts reversed. Grace was the one treasuring that knife, and she was wishing it was Nuada.

When Jaus and Grace examined the knife earlier, there appeared to be images in the blade, and while they were not visible under the blazing lights of the kitchen, Grace soon discovered with a little experimentation, that in dim light that knife could reveal a plethora of information. A single candle lit with her cigarette lighter provided the perfect catalyst, and after laying in on a pillow and staring deep within the blade, Grace discovered it was almost as if she could see Nuada himself reflected within the depths, vivid pictures of the man she loved and missed writhing through the air, performing his battle training. The images tantalized her, and Grace leaned so close that the heat from her breath left steam marks across the etched surface of the metal. With every exhale, the reflections shifted, and in a shower in Shreveport, so did Nuada.

Bound to that weapon with his very soul, Nuada could clearly feel every lingering trace of warmth as Grace gently breathed against his knife, the heat against his flesh ebbing and flowing along with teasingly slow rhythm of her lungs. Reaching to the controls, he shifted the water temperature, allowing it to warm as he leaned back against the granite. Closing his eyes, he emptied his mind, a gentle self-indulgent sigh easing from his lips as he allowed himself to savor the unique sensations. It was an odd comfort, to know that wherever Grace was, she was thinking of him, and it seemed his heart finally began to beat again.

Grace did not know how long she sat staring at the knife, nor was Nuada aware of the time he spent under the pounding roar of that now steaming water, but both thoroughly enjoyed it. Finally, Grace could take no more and reached out, gently tracing a fingertip along the top edge of that dagger. Slowly and intentionally, she dragged it across the surface, watching in fascination as the pattern seemed to respond to her touch, and in a shower in Shreveport, Nuada gasped in surprise, heat rolling down the length of his body in reply. She did it again, and he groaned, sucking in a ragged breath as the muscles in his groin began to tighten in need.

Drawing her hand away, Grace resumed watching for a moment, leaving Nuada to linger, wondering if she had put the knife away for the night and gone to sleep. He collected himself, but just as he reached to cut the water off, Grace took the hilt firmly in her hand, rubbing her thumb across the ridges carved there. A tremor ripped through his body, Nuada's eyes glazed with fiery passion, and his hand involuntarily slid over his own flesh in response. He clenched his teeth as she rolled her thumb from ridge to ridge, and threw his head back against that silky granite wall, a groan crawling from the depths of his throat.

Nuada struggled to breathe as Grace took her hand and began to slowly rub the length of that blade, shocking himself as his own hand began to mirror her actions. Rarely did Amarande Nuada pleasure himself . . . and never had he dreamed of doing so under such unusual circumstances . . . yet he found himself powerless to stop. As ten small tanned fingers traced every line and curve of that knife, Nuada found himself moaning in pleasure, shocked that Grace could make him feel this way.

When Grace lifted the knife and ran the entire length of the blade against the warm flesh of her thigh, Nuada gasped in near-startled pleasure. She wanted to see if the blade felt cool or hot to her flesh, and she was surprised when her skin flickered in response, gentle flames coming to caress the shimmering surface of that blade.

To Nuada, those flickers were nothing short of pure hell fire, and he groaned loudly, turning to face the wall, vivid memories of having Grace pinned against it now racing through his mind. Never before had Nuada shared an erotic experience with any creature in any capacity on a soul to soul level, and the pure intensity of it was mind-blowing. Touching Grace's thoughts could be a shocking sensual experience, binding auras with her could be staggering, but this . . . this was something else entirely, and he found himself savoring it more with each passing second and stroke.

Thick pieces of sodden sunlit hair hung limp around a beautiful face now twisted into a concentrated mask of passion. Grace was thoroughly engrossed in her explorations of that knife now, and with every tantalizing touch, Nuada grunted and rubbed himself in reply. It was as if Grace was pleasuring every single cell in his entire body, and at that moment, his entire existence had been reduced to the woman he loved and the weapon she held, Grace unknowingly controlling every single aspect of both.

Laying the blade against her leg, Grace resumed her previously torturous activity, caressing both hands up and down the length of the dagger, coordinating her motions to the gently rolling sound of the ocean waves. Feathery strokes worked their way up the intricate surface with painful precision, then palms firmly slid their way down, Grace remembering as well as Nuada the gentle games they had played. With every brush, the flames burning beneath her skin grew brighter, and with every tickle the haunted images grew clearer.

As yet another wild shudder of pleasure rippled through him, Nuada's lips parted, uncontrollable growls of pleasure rumbling from deep within his chest. His heart fluttered like a caged bird, his chest beginning to heave as it fought for enough air. His body was now moving in time with her motions, hips instinctively coming forward to meet every rhythmic stroke of her flesh to that blade. It was hypnotic . . . the most intense pleasure Nuada had ever experienced . . . and he never wanted her to stop.

Nuada's mind became consumed by recollections of warm human flesh pressed beneath him, the sound of her voice as it had once filled the confines of that shower, his name screamed in lust as if he had ripped it from her very core as he pleased her. More than he had ever yearned for anything, Nuada wanted Grace. He wanted that human's body gripped around him again, her fingernails tearing at the flesh of his back, her hands buried in his hair . . . he wanted to look into those big grey eyes and tell Grace he loved her . . . and he wanted to do exactly what Thamuz told him he should. For the first time in his entire existence Nuada found himself actually contemplating taking possession of another creature as only a dark realm spirit could. Loving Grace simply wasn't enough. Nuada wanted to publicly claim his beloved Erulissë as his mate . . . he wanted to possess every part of her being . . . right down to her very soul.

The erotic torment went on and on, and Nuada found himself shocked by the depths of his own desire. His mind burned and his body ached for release from this sublime torture. His heart felt as if it was going to explode, he fought for air, and he was so aroused he hurt. "Erulissë, please," he pleaded aloud, praying that somehow, somewhere Grace might hear him.

Plucking the knife from its unusual resting place, Grace brought it to her face, hungry eyes feasting on every image displayed in the depths of that metal. She could see Nuada as clearly as if he were standing in that room, and he was calling to her, beckoning her to join with him. Without thinking, she pressed the knife to her mouth, her tongue easing across curious lips to taste her lover's weapon, kissing him goodnight.

Groaning hoarsely, Nuada felt the knot in his stomach tearing lose in a violent lurch, his body convulsing with pleasure as he collapsed against the cool stone wall before him. Never before had his both his mental and physical form known pleasure to such an extent, and Nuada found his knees too weak to even take him from the shower stall. Instead he sank to the floor, clouds of steam curling around him as he thought about Grace. Nuada's mind was made up. He would find her at any cost, and he would make Grace his forever.

On South Padre Island, Grace's mind was also made up. There were several calls she would be making come morning. This situation was simply not acceptable, and she intended for it to change. Laying the knife on the bedside table, Grace gave it one more lingering look before passing her eyes over to the small scroll also residing there, then she blew out the candle. Many things remained to be considered, but she was mentally exhausted, and they could wait until morning. Curling up in the nest of pillows, Grace found herself replaying her conversation with Jaus over and over in her mind, considering his words about Lord Niall and how she should not fault him for wanting to save his family.

Family.

Suddenly, Grace found herself horror stricken and she lurched up in that bed, on the verge of screaming. She was stunned by her own self-absorbed stupidity. Sookie Stackhouse was just as much family to Niall Brigant as she was . . . and surely if that fairy intended this transfer of essence for her, he also intended it for Sookie. How could she have been so stupid? Grace had worried about Niall and Nuada going after Sookie because of her leaving, pressuring her for information . . . and she'd made Eric promise he would keep her cousin safe, but she never told him from what. Grace had never spoken to Eric about what Niall was doing to her . . . and if Niall could snatch her out of Sookie's house, then he could certainly do the same to her cousin as well.

Suddenly Grace felt the pure fires of hell tear through her very soul. If Niall Brigant touched one hair on her cousins head, Grace could promise that fairy all hell was gonna break loose . . . and it was going to make everything that had happened so far look like a Sunday afternoon stroll in the park.


	43. WTF Friday

Chapter 43 – WTF Friday

T.G.I.F. was gonna turn out to be nothing of the sort for a whole plethora of surprised creatures. There was an entirely different set of letters to describe how this Friday was going to be described - W.T.F – and it was certainly going to be a Friday that few people in Grace's world forgot.

The rising sun had shown its welcoming light on two very awake yet vastly different creatures, both possessing a fierce determination to get what they wanted, but each having an entirely different opinion of what that was exactly. In Shreveport, Nuada once again crawled into that glistening obsidian shower, completely incapable of suppressing the soft smile that crept across his lips as he fondly remembered the night before. If that erotic episode was any indicator of how pleasantly his time might pass while Grace was in possession of his war blade, he might just let her keep it - even after she came back home. Thamuz would just have to get over it, because that shit was wonderful.

Unfortunately, on South Padre Island, Grace was not finding anything to be wonderful this morning, and she watched that same sun come up through venomous eyes. If she lay down with her internal dial on bitch, she got up in all out war mode. The night before had been spent by several different groups of creatures plotting different ways to bring her home, but Grace got up with her mind focused on something else entirely – revenge – and how to keep her cousin safe.

Her first order of business was to make some calls, but it was too early yet, so Grace settled for some time on the computer: bills got paid, a few polite emails got answered, she even spent an hour tweaking a house plan issue for Alcide Herveaux - then Grace retired to the balcony. Sliding into that lounge chair, she popped open her first Diet Dr. Pepper of the day, lit her first cigarette, and stared at the two things she somehow knew were the keys to her controlling this mess she was trapped in - Nuada's knife and that little parchment scroll. Last night that knife had simply obsessed her, but this morning it was the scroll that held her captive.

Having paid little attention to it the night before, Grace now scrutinized it, making the very same observations Jaus did. It seemed to be something very important. A strange tingle touched her flesh as she rolled it in her palm, and Grace tended to agree that it was indeed some form of spell. Glancing at her watch, she laid it carefully to the side, deciding it was late enough to call Sookie, and her cousin nearly split her head she screamed so loud in that phone when she answered.

Four days was the longest the two cousins had gone without talking since they'd known each other, and it had been the four longest days of Sookie Stackhouse's life. Drudging around Merlotte's like the end of the world had arrived, Sookie had found herself dragged into Sam's office repeatedly, her shifter boss desperately trying to find some way to comfort the beautiful blonde waitress he cared so deeply for. Sookie had tried so hard to hide her feelings, but yesterday she'd finally broken down, confessing everything in the confines of his small office, actually feeling relieved when he took her into his arms and let her cry on his shoulder.

Sam hadn't been able to imagine Grace being scared enough of her great-grandfather to actually leave, but he had a past himself, and sometimes things just became overwhelming and you had to get away. Sympathetic and understanding as always, her nice looking employer wasn't the least bit worried about her relationship with Eric. They'd fought in the past, but they'd work it out, they always did. He soothed and petted the pretty blonde, then sent her home - which led into the impromptu roach attack and Eric's sympathetic visit - and by this morning, Sookie did feel a little better.

While Grace was sitting on South Padre Island concocting a plan, Sookie was doing a little pondering in Bon Temps herself, planning out the well rehearsed speech she intended to recite whenever Grace finally did call. Sookie intended to convince her cousin to come home, and she prayed Grace would listen. Unfortunately, that speech was forgotten when Sookie's telephone rang later that very morning, excitement overriding planning in an instant. Instead of remaining calm and focusing her thoughts, Sookie nearly went insane, shrieking in excitement and panic, desperate to know that her cousin was alright. "Grace? Grace!!" she cried into the phone, positive it was her from the blocked caller id. She was correct.

Never giving any hint of her location outside of "the beach", Grace laughed at her cousin's bubbling enthusiasm as simply hearing her voice, calmly assuring Sookie that she was indeed fine. No – she was not happy. Yes - her heart was broken. No – she did not like being away from Shreveport. Yes – where she was would be fine for a while. Grace answered every question simply but politely, but she had not called to talk about herself. She was much more concerned about Sookie's wellbeing than her own, because she was positive her cousin had been facing the fire from Nuada - and because she was convinced Niall intended the very same fate for Sookie that he did for her.

It took a little while before Grace gingerly broached the subject, carefully asking Sookie if their great-grandfather had been to see her - and politely asking what he wanted when he did. Sucking on a cigarette, she listened intently as Sookie openly filled her in on the details of his visit along with Nuada, and when she backed that up with details of her terrible argument with Eric, Grace felt lower than dirt. The very last thing she wanted was to cause problems between her two very best friends, and even Sookie's calming depiction of Eric's chivalrous visit last night did little to ease her discomfort. Grace needed to know that Eric was by her cousin's side every possible moment to keep her safe, and she knew the only way to accomplish that was to call Eric Northman and talk to him.

Forcing that thought aside for the time being, Grace settled deeper into the lounge chair on that balcony, while Sookie slipped outside and sat down on that porch swing, both girls getting comfortable for a talk that would eventually stretch out for hours. Grace carefully evaded every direct question from Sookie about anything that mattered, and finally Sookie stopping asking, but before they hung up Grace had two very important questions to ask herself. The first one, Sookie laughed off, but after realizing Grace was entirely serious, thankfully answered it with a firm "no". The question: Sookie, have you been having any nightmares? The second question really caught Sookie off-guard, but thankfully the answer to this one was yes. Grace wanted to know if Sookie still talked to her friends Amelia and Octavia from New Orleans - the witches - because she wanted a very unique favor from them.

On the other end of that telephone, Sookie Stackhouse could not begin to imagine what Grace wanted with two witches from New Orleans, but considering the things her cousin had done lately, she was not entirely sure she wanted to know either. Shrugging her shoulders, Sookie decided no harm could come from it – Amelia and Octavia could take care of themselves – and Sookie secretly hoped that whatever her cousin wanted with them was going to help bring her home, but oh contraire! Those two witched were going to help Grace do the absolute opposite – it was simply that no one knew it yet.

It was well past noon before the girls hung up, and while Logan had cautioned Grace only to use his phone in emergencies, after figuring out how to block the caller id, she was quite content to burn that bad boy up – and she did – praying Logan had an unlimited calling plan, because if he didn't, he was never going to pay the bill! Pausing only to retrieve two more drinks from the fridge and another pack of cigarettes, Grace followed up her marathon call to Sookie with one to Trey Lockhardt, and they talked for a few hours more.

Her delightful friend knew from several things that all was not well with his little southern sweetheart: Grace had not called him in over a week, her voice sounded strained to the breaking point, and most alarmingly – Nuada had called Carolina Customs yesterday morning asking if he'd talked to Grace. That alone was enough to put Trey Lockhardt into an emotional frenzy of worry, setting off alarm bells in that man's head louder than he'd ever heard before. Never had Grace run away from anything, and if she was running from a man, something unthinkable had happened.

Like Sookie, he was utterly relieved to hear her voice on the other end of a telephone, but again, Grace gently rebuffed any invasive questions, repeatedly steering Trey toward neutral territory; and just as her cousin did, he finally gave up prying. Instead, her friend decided to provide Grace with the one thing he was best at – humor - knowing from the disheartened sound of her voice that Grace could certainly use some cheering up.

Ludicrous tales of work antics soon began to flow freely, lavishly sprinkled with hilarious anecdotes. Before Trey was done it was late afternoon, and Grace had damn near choked to death on Diet Dr. Pepper, swallowed a cigarette and pissed her pants laughing – and she had cackled until water ran from her eyes in pure rivers. It was exactly what she needed, and truth be told Grace felt a thousand times better when she hung up that phone – and that feeling better only continued when Grace headed inside and checked her email. She had one – and it was from Amelia.

Grace had no idea what the strange words on that little piece of parchment paper meant, but she was positive if anyone in this world could tell her, Sookie's witch friends from New Orleans probably could; and Grace silently prayed as she clicked that computer mouse and glanced over at the refrigerator that it proved to be another one of those magical blocking spells - because obviously one on that damn ring was broken! Her eyes narrowed as Grace considered that, knowing that no – that was wrong – because if Nuada could come to her of his own free will, that man would be standing in the kitchen with her. Confused and agitated, Grace tapped her fingers on the counter then went to work, painstakingly typing in every character of the cryptic message neatly written on that parchment papers. She reread it at least a dozen times just to be sure she got it right, making meticulous notes at the bottom to detail every single mark over each letter so there would be no mistakes. The sun had fallen before Grace finally hit that send button, and Grace could hardly wait to see what Amelia had to say about it.

Satisfied for the moment with her day's progress, Grace was just slipping from the bar stool when a tap came at the door, and she could readily assume who it was. "Yep!" she called out, telling Jaus to come on in, and wondering why the hell he bothered to knock in the first place – it was his house!

"How are you this evening?" he asked politely, silently easing through the door and crossing into the kitchen.

 _"Not as fucking good as you,_ " Grace thought to herself, taking a long lingering look at the pure vampire perfection that just came strutting through the door. Nuada was one damn fine gift to females, but . . . MY – FUCKING - GOD. There was simply no excuse for a male of any species to look – or smell – like that. Those jeans were so tight they were daring her to look – and Grace most certainly was – while that half unbuttoned shirt was pure sacrilege. It was just too damn bad she cared too much about Nuada to do anything with that tasty tidbit now seating itself at the kitchen island, because if Grace had been looking for "that" kind of revenge, she knew exactly where she would have been finding it. Mercy!

Running extremely appreciative eyes over him one more time, Grace did not even bother with her lighter when she lit that next cigarette. She just lit it with her fingertip and started puffing – lord knows she was hot enough. "And what brings you by tonight?" she asked smoothly.

"I was concerned," he answered. "Did you take my advice and speak with any of your people today?"

"I called my cousin . . . and my best friend," Grace said.

"But not Nuada or your great-grandfather?" he prodded.

"Nope, not yet at least," she answered. "And I wanted to get an idea what was going on with Sook before I talked to them anyway . . . I'm trying to figure out if Eric knows what's been going on, and who's side he's on before I do anything."

Jaus frowned slightly. He had not figured Eric Northman into this equation, and he did not believe that Logan had either. The twins had simply assumed that while he was friends with Nuada, the vampire had been unaware of what had been going on just the same as everyone else – could it be that they were wrong? "Do you trust him?" Jaus asked seriously.

"I always have, but for some strange reason, every time I try to pick up the phone and call him, the alarm bells in my head start screaming - and that's not a good thing."

"Well, what if Eric did know . . . what does that change?" Jaus asked.

"It changes a whole freaking lot," Grace snapped. "Eric Northman stood in the middle of Fangtasia spewing lovey-dovey shit in my face when I asked him was he gonna love my cousin when she was old and dried up . . . and maybe he meant what he said . . . but if he knew Niall was planning on turning Sook into a damn fairy, then he already knew there wasn't gonna be any old and wrinkled . . . he's stands to get everything a vampire could ever want on a silver platter! My cousin - juicy tits and all - preserved for the next thousand years, her telepathy at his beck and call, and the added bonus of getting to fuck a fairy every night. It's a damn vampire's dream!"

Jaus's eyed had widened as Grace spoke. He certainly could not argue that logic! What vampire would not want a fairy to bed every night? And one that could live as long as a vampire AND who had the added bonus of being a telepath? Well . . . yeah . . . that was a dream come true. Suddenly he looked at Grace oddly. "Well, why wouldn't Eric just turn her though? I know we like fairies and all, but she'd live just as long if she was a vampire."

"Yeah, but she wouldn't be a telepath anymore, and Sookie's saved Eric's ass more times that he can count," Grace answered, sliding onto the bar stool to pop open another drink and light yet another cigarette.

"You're gonna die of lung cancer before forty if you don't stop that shit," Logan lectured. "And what difference would being a vampire make to her telepathy?"

"Ya'll are dead - dead brain means no brain waves. She'd be useless to him," Grace answered coldly, knowing if Eric ever dared to consider Sookie Stackhouse useless if she lost her telepathic abilities, she'd see him staked in the middle of Fangtasia personally.

"Well that's some deep shit to consider," Jaus answered.

"Isn't it though?" Grace said sarcastically. "Goes along with getting killed and turned into something I don't want to be quite nicely I think."

Leaning back on the bar stool, Jaus looked over Grace a little more intently than he normally did, actually sending shivers down her spine his eyes got so cold. "You ever thought about it?" he asked.

"What," Grace answered rather harshly, "being turned in a fucking vampire?"

"It's an option," Jaus said flatly, his expression telling her she could have saved the tone. "You obviously don't like what you are now, and you don't want to be turned into a fairy. If being a vampire kills your brain and stops these fairy abilities, wouldn't it stop yours too? You'd still get to live a long time – if that's what you wanted – but you'd be getting rid of the rest of the stuff, and there certainly wouldn't be anything Niall could do to change it back either. Turned is turned."

Grace opened her mouth to answer him, then closed it again - twice. Being turned into a vampire sure as hell was not something she had ever considered as an option, but the way Jaus explained it, it was a solution – it wasn't a very appealing one - but it was a solution just the same. It was also leverage, and as Grace's evil little mind wrapped itself around that information, she could not help the deliciously devious thoughts she was having. Oh, she could only imagine the expression on Lord Niall's face if she threw that at him!

"You'd make a damn good vampire as cold hearted as you are," Jaus said, clearly reading the thoughts from her face.

"I'm not cold hearted, but I don't like being told what to do – at all," Grace answered firmly.

"Well, I wouldn't dream of it. I just came by to check on you, and now I'm off," he told her sliding off the bar stool. "Gonna go find me some juicy tits as you called them!" He winked at her when he said it, and Grace couldn't help but laugh. Who would ever have imagined that vampires had a sense of humor?

Sliding from her own stool, Grace intended to walk Jaus to the door, but neither of them made it. Seemed Grace was not the only one with vampires or devious thoughts on the brain this night, and as she turned for the door, Grace found herself screaming out to Jaus. "Get behind me now if you don't want to die!"

It was a sentiment that was being echoed in Shreveport, Louisiana at the very same time it was being screeched out on South Padre Island. "Logan, run!" Eric screamed across the parking lot, instantly recognizing the silver haired warrior who had just appeared out of pure air in front of his friend. Shadowing across that parking lot, Eric slammed into Haldir of Lórien like a freight train, just as Logan was planting a fist in that elf's face. Haldir was expecting to be backed up by Glorfindel in their seemingly well planned vampire kidnapping scheme, but unfortunately, things had gone terribly wrong.

While an elf had the unique ability to transport themselves to the human world and back again, in order to locate a creature, they had to rely on a unique combination of telepathic ability, pure instinct, and the information they had been given – and the information Haldir and Glorfindel had about Logan was not entirely correct. Yes, they had seen him in person the night he retrieved Grace from the restaurant at Christmas. Yes, they had sucked every single image available of him from Cairbre's mind. But no – they had no idea that creature was an identical twin – and when those two warriors popped themselves to the earth realm with the sole intention of snatching Logan back to the elf realm and beating the whereabouts of Grace out of his dead body, they both appeared in front of one very good looking blond haired, green eyed tall lean vampire – only one was named Logan in Shreveport, and the other one was named Jaus on South Padre Island.

Fortunately for Haldir, he had well over double the experience at extricating himself from these situations as Eric and Logan had at keeping him in it, and while Eric Northman was doing his best to strangle the powerful elf to death, the marchwarden still managed to bounce Logan off the side of that Escalade hard enough to crush in the entire driver door before simply disappearing again, leaving two stunned vampires standing in the middle of a gravel parking lot with a single thought. WTF! Haldir agreed. He was now returned to the elven realm to stand in some strange state of complete incredulity, wondering exactly what those vampires were – What the fuck just happened? And where the hell was Glorfindel?

Well, Glorfindel was somewhere else entirely, and he and another vampire were about to start sharing a little WTF surprise of their own, because Valentin Jaus nearly swallowed his tongue when he headed for the door of that beach house with every intention of going to the nearest vampire bar to pick up some arm candy for the night, only to find that where only air had been seconds before, there now stood one hulking blond man with a huge knife in his hand. "What the fuck?" he yelled, trying to snatch Grace out of the way, but thankfully – for the moment – that elf was too surprised to even move.

Poor Glorfindel wholeheartedly agreed with the vampire's sentiment. "Den rhacho ni nuath! Where am I?" the elf snarled in disbelief as he glanced around. The golden warrior was looking for Haldir – and his friend was not there – and not only was his friend missing, Glorfindel knew instantly that he was most certainly not in the parking lot of a vampire bar - which is where he was expecting to be.

"Glorfindel, put that knife down!" Grace ordered loudly. Now she was the one trying to put herself in front of Jaus, knowing she stood a much better chance of reasoning with the elf warrior than he did. She had no idea just how Glorfindel came to be standing in that kitchen with them, but elf vs. vampire was not something she intended on seeing tonight – or ever - for that matter.

"Pinilyaer?" Glorfindel said, running confused eyes over Grace. "You are in Louisiana with the vampire, Logan?"

"No," Grace answered, planting herself between him and Jaus, "but I'll tell you where we're at - soon as you put that knife down and promise not to hurt my friend."

Those predatory grey eyes narrowed and locked on the vampire now standing only inches behind her. The elf's assessment was fast and accurate. "You are the same . . . but different," Glorfindel said firmly, "and you are not the creature I have come after."

"I don't know who the hell you're after," Grace said, "but this is Jaus – not Logan - and we're not in Louisiana. We're in his house in another state. Now promise me, you aren't gonna do anything stupid with that knife."

Glorfindel glanced down at the knife in his hand. Grace had already asked him to put it away some three times now! Seemed Grace had a real thing against knives tonight for some reason! Slipping it into the leather sheath hanging at his side, Glorfindel crossed those massive arms across his bulging chest and looked down that perfect elf nose at both of them. "I am listening," he said, passing a cold, almost frightening look from one of them to the other.

"Well just what the fuck is it you want to know?" Grace snarled out sarcastically.

"Watch your language, little one!" Glorfindel scolded instantly.

"Bite my ass," Grace retaliated.

Shaking his head, Glorfindel's expression softened. That vampire might not be Logan, but that human girl was most certainly Grace in all her foul-mouthed glory. "Pinilyaer, why are you hiding? And what have you managed to get yourself into this time?" he asked gently. "You do know that Niall and Nuada have ever fey creature in the universe searching for you."

"I kinda figured they did," Grace answered nervously, watching Glorfindel carefully as she reached a trembling hand for the ashtray to dump her cigarette ashes. "He gonna be coming barreling in here behind you in a minute?"

Glorfindel looked offended at the very suggestion. "Hmmmph!" he snorted. "Haldir and I have not shared information of Logan with that creature. So far as I know, he has no idea the vampire was involved in helping you. We came to the earth realm this night with plans to get information from the vampire in order to find you – before Nuada or the other fey did."

"We?" Jaus blurted out in panic, reaching for his phone. It had taken his dead brain a minute to catch up, but he had things figured out now – that massive, intimidating man across the kitchen from him had friends, and they were after his brother! Logan was in a shit load of trouble! Dialing like a madman, Jaus nearly flipped when Logan did not answer, and when he gave up after the fourth try, his demeanor began to deteriorate rapidly. His fangs began to extend, and Jaus was now glaring over that island at Glorfindel. "Where the fuck is my brother, and this other elf friend of yours?"

Glorfindel looked at Jaus strangely, almost as if he had not considered that the vampire might take offense to their plans – but obviously he did. Closing his eyes for second, Glorfindel reached out with his mind, then spoke. "Your brother is still in Shreveport, and my elf friend has returned to our world."

"He better be," Jaus hissed.

"Is that so, mellon nín?" Glorfindel snarled aggressively, taking a threatening step toward him.

"Shut up, both of you!" Grace snapped. "Glorfindel, is Logan alright? What happened with him and Haldir?"

"If you want to know details, you need to speak to the one who was there. Do you wish me to have Haldir join us so you may ask him yourself?" Glorfindel answered.

"Shit no!" Grace retched out. "I just want to know if Logan's alright!"

"You are in a most unsociable mood, Pinilyaer," Glorfindel said dryly, "and your language seems to have deteriorated rather markedly since we last spoke. Am I to assume that you have not forgiven Haldir for his words on the terrace of Imladris?"

"Yeah, you can assume that," Grace growled out viciously, "and you can also assume Mr. Spit Bitch Lover can fuck off, just like his ritual loving buddy Fido Fucker can!"

Glorfindel shook that massive head at her in consternation, his golden mane sprawling itself out over the black leather vest he was wearing. "See, Pinilyaer? Most unsociable!"

"I don't care how unsociable she is," Jaus snarled out, "I want to know why you're hunting Logan, and just what it is you intended to do when you found him?"

Glorfindel looked over Jaus coolly. Elves could not lie, and he did not intend to. "Your brother assisted the Pinilyaer in leaving her home, and coming here to hide. Her absence is causing a great deal of . . . strife . . . in my world. My friend and I intended to speak with your brother in hopes of persuading him to tell us where she was located. Obviously, that is no longer an issue as I am now looking at her."

"Persuade?" Jaus said viciously.

"Let it go," Grace said almost under her breath. Jaus might be a former knight and a damn good looking vampire, but Glorfindel would crush that creature like a bug if he pissed him off, she was sure of it.

Snorting himself, Jaus turned away, dialing his phone yet again, determined to get Logan on the other end and guarantee for himself that his brother was indeed not harmed. Unfortunately for Logan, while Haldir had indeed gone back to the elf realm, he still had his hands more than full, and it was gonna be a while before he could answer that phone.

***************************************

"Horse shit!" Eric snarled out under his breath, glaring at Logan like he wanted to finish what Haldir apparently intended to start.

"Back the fuck off!" Logan rumbled out in return, praying he could lie his ass out of this oddly dangerous situation he had suddenly found himself in. "How the hell am I supposed to know why that freaking possessed elven SOB came out of nowhere to attack me? If it isn't because I look like Nuada, then give me another god damned reason!" Logan was trying his best to keep a straight head so he did not say something to inadvertently reveal why Haldir was most likely after him, but the pure fit of rage he was currently suffering from was making that very difficult. Logan had considered that this very scenario might play out as some point because he had allied himself with an elf to help Grace hide, but that did not make getting attacked by one go down any easier. Stalking around Eric's office, Logan was almost hoping that silver haired idiot came back, because he desperately wanted to take his anger out on someone – and when Nuada opened that door, Logan jumped in his face without even thinking. "Your fucking elf friends came and tried to kill me earlier!" he growled out viciously.

Nuada looked at Logan for a moment, his face carefully blank. The vampire was obviously enraged to no end. His fangs were out, and his eyes had narrowed to cat like slits, telling Nuada he was ready to kill. Unfortunately for Logan, if he did not get out of Nuada's face, that mercenary could tell him who was going to get killed. "I believe you may want to take a walk and calm yourself," Nuada said calmly, his eyes telling that vampire what his voice did not - Logan better back the fuck away from him - now.

"Pointy-eared bastards," Logan snarled, heading out the door.

Nuada let that comment slide, but he looked after Logan oddly as he closed the door. "I obviously have missed something . . . why is he ranting so of elves? What has taken place?"

"Oh, you missed something!" Eric snapped impatiently. He was not sitting in his chair, he was pacing – and Eric Northman never paced.

"Well, would you care to tell me what I missed, or am I simply to guess?" Nuada said somewhat sardonically.

"Haldir of Lórien was just in my parking lot, trying to choke Logan . . . and he damn near put him through the side of that Cadillac, even with me on top of him. Any ideas why that might be?" Eric growled out, stopping his pacing to glare at Nuada. They might be great friends, but Eric knew at times Nuada conveniently forgot to mention important things – like dropping his knife when he saw Grace – he wondered if there was not something else he failed to mention that was putting vampire's lives in danger.

Nuada's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. "Haldir of Lórien, was just here?"

"Damn right he was here – and Logan guesses it's because he was after you and got confused. You agree with that?" Eric demanded.

"No," Nuada answered, already deep in thought. "Elven warriors do not make mistakes. If Logan is who Haldir went after, then Logan is who he wanted."

"Could it be for revenge? You did go after Cairbre the other night – maybe the elves want to take out one of mine for one of theirs - show us that they'll do the same thing," Eric said.

Nuada crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head – no. "The marchwardens do not behave the way I do, and they are not known for that type of revenge. They are defenders and protectors, but not aggressors. It is acceptable to safeguard their lands and people, but they will never take another's life unless it is to save their own - it goes against their perfect moral laws and ethic standards of fairness. No. Haldir knows how to contact me, and I do not believe that marchwarden wishes to challenge me, especially not in the human realm . . . besides, when we last spoke, there were no hard words between us. He vowed to offer any and all assistance possible in finding Erulissë, as did Glorfindel. He came after Logan for a different reason, and he did not intend to kill him. If Haldir of Lórien wanted Logan dead, that vampire would be dust right now."

Eric frowned in irritation and confusion. He had been deep in thought over this ever since he pulled Logan out of the gravel, pacing his office like a man possessed, yet he still had no idea what had gotten up Haldir's ass! Snarling in disgust, Eric paced the room yet again, but when he flipped back to make another pass, suddenly his eyes met Nuada's and a horribly strange thought was shared as Nuada's words came roaring back to echo in their minds with pointed meaning – Haldir vowed to help find Grace. Was it possible that Logan knew where Grace was? "Fuck!" Eric hissed, already heading for the door but Nuada was already gone, instantly transporting himself to the parking lot, grabbing hold of Logan and transporting them both back into that office before Eric even got the door open.

"I believe you need to start talking to the pointy eared bastard," Nuada snarled, slamming Logan into the wall hard enough to crack the sheetrock. That infuriated mercenary's eyes were already burning deep crimson red, telling Logan that if he thought he was in deep shit when Haldir showed up, it was nothing compared to what his sorry ass was in now.

"I'm not telling you shit," Logan growled right back, actually baring his fangs in Nuada's face.

It was a terrible mistake, and before that vampire could even react, Nuada had grabbed the nearest chair, flipping it over so fast even vampire eyes couldn't follow his motions, and torn off the leg, skewering Logan to the wall with a professional adeptness that reeked of experience. "You know where Erulissë is, and if you do not tell me, I am going to kill you," Nuada spat out quite matter-of-factly, thoroughly enjoying that horrified grunt of terror Logan was trying so desperately to suppress. His porcelain face was drawn into one of the most vicious expressions that vampire had ever seen, and it was so close to Logan's the heat of Nuada's breath was leaving little red trails against the terrified vampire's cheek. One pale hand clutched that chair leg, while the other had magically endowed itself with a purely venomous looking dagger, pressing the gleaming blade to his neck as two pointed ears impatiently waited for an answer.

Logan was so stunned he could not begin to form a response, and Eric Northman was as surprised as he had been in centuries. No one expects to see a friend - vampire or otherwise - staked to the wall, yet that is exactly what just happened. "Nuada . . . let's think about what we're doing here," he offered gently, hoping he could provide a voice of reason in this horrible situation he was suddenly faced with. "We don't even know that Logan's involved in this!"

"He is most certainly involved, so he talks or he dies . . . and never doubt that I know exactly what I am doing," Nuada answered viciously, those burning red eyes never shifting from Logan's face, seeing the frown that was creasing that attractive face and intending to make it much, much worse. Logan wasn't anywhere near dead - Nuada made sure of it - but he could get that way, and fast.

"I'm sure you do," Eric said carefully, easing a step closer, "but you don't really expect him to talk to you while you've got him staked to the fucking wall of my office, do you?" Eric was trying desperately to keep his voice even, but he was failing for a whole variety of reasons, first of which was that those dark green eyes of Logan's were silently pleading with him for assistance. Logan hadn't uttered one word, but his face was speaking volumes, as was that dark blood beginning to run down his chest and drip onto the floor. He was clearly expecting Nuada to kill him in a minute, and he expected his superior to help him.

"Being staked to the wall does not interfere with his mouth working, so yes Eric, I most certainly do expect him to talk," Nuada hissed in a frightening voice.

Unfortunately, Logan was choosing to ignore his command to speak, so Nuada decided to get the vampire's attention in a more direct fashion. Twisting that chair leg, Nuada shoved it in a little farther, watching with cruel satisfaction as dark blood began to run from Logan's body a little faster, but he didn't stop there. The tip of that evil looking knife began to leave ever deepening bloody streaks across Logan's neck as Nuada ran it back and forth, and soon a handful of long blonde hair drifted to the floor. "I am waiting," Nuada hissed, those eyes frozen from the inside out as he raked them over Logan's face. "You have obviously helped Erulissë, and when you tell me where she is, I will release you." Those evil eyes were telling Logan he would never get off that wall without talking, and that chair leg and knife were telling him that mercenary would do whatever it took to make that happen.

"Nuada," Eric said firmly, taking another step closer, "you let Logan go right now!" He'd been watching Nuada ease closer and closer to his breaking point for days now, and after his little moment in the cemetery last night, this was not an entirely surprising scene. It was inevitable the creature would snap, and from the looks of things, Logan was gonna go down with him.

"No," Nuada answered in a chilling voice, not so much as twitching at Eric's demand. "He answers or he dies . . . permanently." The words were very matter of fact, and Nuada backed them up in dramatic fashion, taking that knife away from Logan's neck to rake it down the front of that vampire's shirt, slicing it wide open to reveal an expanse of pale flesh just waiting to be marred.

Knowing his impatient warrior friend was absolutely serious, Eric eased over beside him. "Look Nuada, you got your knife back . . . that must mean that it's listening to you again, so you can just go see Grace yourself . . . now let Logan go."

"This is not my war blade, Olótëare," Nuada seethed. "I have a spare."

Silently wondering just how many creatures Nuada really had killed, Eric realized his calm reasoning was falling on deaf ears, and he prayed he could stop the mercenary from killing yet again – in his office. Maybe Logan would listen . . . "Logan, man tell Nuada you didn't do this," Eric ordered loudly. "Tell us Haldir fucked up, and you didn't help Grace leave. Tell me this is all a damn mistake!" Eric was praying to every pagan god he'd ever heard of that Logan hadn't been so stupid, because he could only imagine what Nuada was gonna do to him if Logan admitted he'd even dreamed of Grace since she'd been gone.

Logan's eyes locked with Eric's. He wasn't stupid, but yes - he sure as hell did help Grace - and obviously Haldir knew about it, no doubt from Cairbre's stupid behind. But Logan knew some things too – like the fact that Nuada wouldn't dare end his life without getting his answers first – and Logan didn't intend to die, nor did he intend to tell that love struck mercenary where Grace was either. He'd covered Eric's ass more times than he could count, and he expected the favor returned.

"I don't know what the fuck Haldir's problem is," Logan finally answered. His voice was extremely strained, and the dark blood from the various wounds Nuada was enthusiastically inflicting was beginning to pool on the floor.

"Haldir's problem is the same as mine! You have information you are not sharing," Nuada spat out in fury. "So you will tell me what Haldir did not make you tell him! You will tell me where Erulissë is . . . or I will start cutting things off!" To prove his point, Nuada very carefully and very slowly ran that huge knife around Logan's neck, ever so neatly cutting a perfect half circle from ear to ear. Nuada knew exactly how to place that blade, and he made that cut just deep enough to bleed profusely, but just shallow enough not to cut a jugular or his throat . . . Nuada needed him alive and talking for a little while longer.

Eric Northman felt chills run up his spine as Nuada worked that knife, positive Logan's head was about to hit the floor. He was beginning to panic, and he knew he had to intervene. "Nuada, stop this! If you want information fine, but you're not gonna kill Logan in my office! Now move out of the way and let me talk to him . . ." Eric was trying very hard to remain calm, but he had been caught completely off guard, and he was still stunned. Never would he have imagined Logan helped Grace disappear, and never would he have imagined he'd be standing in his office watching Nuada torture Logan toward what was obviously his impending death!

"I will not stop until my questions are answered . . . and if you do not wish me in your office, say the word, and I will gladly take this somewhere more private," Nuada answered in a sadistic tone, the pure evil seeping through his voice telling Eric he would cut Logan into neat little pieces without a moments hesitation - and that he truly did not give a shit where the cutting took place. Once against, he proved his sincerity too, deftly slicing a gaping cut across Logan's chest, before he lowered that blade. Running the evil curved weapon from Logan's knee to his crotch, Nuada split those black dress pants wide open, and as he pressed that razor sharp edge into Logan's crotch, he left little doubt what he intended to cut off first.

Logan nearly passed out – and so did Eric Northman – and his effort to stop this became much more intense. "Logan, god damnit, if you know where Grace is, for Christ's sake tell him!" Eric yelled harshly. He did not want to see anyone tortured, and he certainly did not want to see any man – friend or foe - castrated in his office.

"I'm not saying shit!" Logan retched out, spitting blood and bringing an immediate and horrifying reaction from Nuada.

The cry that cut through Eric Northman's office was as blood curling as any that thousand year old vampire ever heard, and even he was shocked to his very core, when Nuada bellowed out "Nachuithron!" and slammed his knife through Logan's other shoulder just above his heart - then it was Logan screaming. The vampire was unable to contain his agony any longer. Eric Northman cringed, and actually turned away, the sound of his friend's painful cries as much as even his ancient heart could stand, positive Nuada was about to end this. He was correct.

With one hand still on that knife handle, Nuada clamped the other around his throat, seething his words right up Logan's nose. He did not even raise his voice when he spoke – he did not need to. Logan knew delivered loud or soft, they were the truth, and so did Eric. "Play time is over. You will tell me where Erulissë is, or I will crush your throat and cut your dead heart from your chest while you watch!"

Nuada was so angry, pure white lightning was dancing over his flesh and Eric was convinced his mercenary friend was going to start carving Logan up like a Thanksgiving Turkey here in a second. He was scrambling for any ideas, positive if he attempted to physically pry Nuada away, this situation would only go from very bad to much, much worse – if that was even possible. He was still debating those options when to his immense relief, the situation got interrupted by the most unexpected thing imaginable. Nuada's telephone rang, and Eric held his breath, praying he would answer it - and although it was with the greatest amount of reluctance possible, he did.

Nuada's burning red eyes never left Logan's face as he put that phone to his ear and hit the send key, but they did when he heard the voice on the other end. It was one of the guardians desperate to reach him. Nuada was so incensed, he was ignoring their mental pleas for his attention, but Grace herself had been in contact with the Los Angeles office and she wanted something. The guardian continued on with a quickly snapped out sentence, then ended the call, and it took Nuada a moment to digest what was said as he returned that phone to his pocket.

A look of complete confusion had come over him, and Eric knew instantly something had happened with Grace. "What?" Eric demanded. "What has she done now?"

"Erulissë has demanded Niall to be in Los Angeles in thirty minutes to speak with her," Nuada answered uncertainly, shifting from glaring at Logan to grinding his teeth and back again.

"Los Angeles? What the fuck! Grace can't just talk to Niall on the damn phone? What the hell does that fairy being in Los Angeles have to do with anything?" Eric demanded harshly, thrilled that her call interrupted Nuada, but still desperate for Nuada to leave so he could help Logan.

"I have no idea what Erulissë is up to," Nuada admitted with a snarl, "but whatever it is, it cannot be good."

"Then take me with you," Eric said firmly. "Let me talk to her. Grace usually listens to me."

Nuada looked at his friend oddly. He was genuinely confused. He had no idea what Grace was doing, or what possible reason she could have for specifically requesting Niall go to Los Angeles – like Eric said, she could speak with him on the telephone anywhere - it was simply a matter of telling them where she wanted Niall to receive the call, and her great-grandfather would certainly make himself available. "The time is different there," Nuada finally answered, "the sun is just going down. I do not know that it would be safe for you yet."

Retching out a steam of cursing, Eric glanced at his watch. Nuada was right. "Fuck it – then go," he said, "call me, tell me what the hell is going on."

Nuada looked to Eric for a moment, then returned his attentions to Logan. That vampire was still staked to the wall of Eric's office, and while he possessed the power to heal himself, so long as he continued to bleed from his open wounds, his condition deteriorated. "You had better pray that A'maelamin Erulissë is intending to return herself home this night, because if she does not, I intend to hunt you down and kill you . . . Heniach nin? Do you understand me, vampire?" Nuada's voice was raw with anger, and he snatched that knife out of Logan's flesh just to emphasize his promise, intentionally twisting it as he did.

Logan squealed and Eric cringed, but he remained focused, grabbing Nuada by the arm and trying his best to get between them. "Nuada, time to go," Eric insisted loudly.

Fighting desperately against his raging emotions that just begged for him to finish off that vampire, Nuada finally stepped away. "You will hear from me shortly," he growled out to Eric, then he was gone.

Another torrent of cursing began spewing from Eric the second Nuada was gone, as he quickly snatched the chair leg out of Logan and settled him onto the couch. Logan's wounds would heal soon enough, but there would be no healing if Grace did not intend to make peace with Niall and Nuada this night. As close to frantic as a dead former Viking could get, Eric Northman crawled right in Logan's face. "Alright, start talking and I mean now!" The livid vampire hissed out in a violent tone. "Not only am I your superior, I'm also the sheriff of this area, and supposedly your god damned friend, so you better tell me the fucking truth! Did you help Grace? Do you know where that girl is at? Because if you do, not only am I going to put my foot up your ass for making a complete mockery out of me, Nuada is going to string you up and use you for a fucking piñata before it's over with!"

Logan grabbed Eric by the arm, his eyes nearly black as he stared up at him, his voice faint and labored as he spoke. "No human deserves to be tortured the way Niall did that girl, and you know it – and you know Sookie will be next!" That struck a nerve, and Logan knew it did because Eric was clearly fighting to keep that carefully blank expression on his face - but he wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"That will never happen," Eric answered firmly, "Sookie has choices."

Logan looked up at Eric, a ferocious grip on his arm. "Then Grace should too."

"Motherfuck!" Eric hissed, snatching his arm away and lurching off that couch to pace some more. His hands were running through that blond hair in agitation, as he repeatedly looked at the clock on the wall. He was positive he would have a nervous breakdown before the next twenty-five minutes passed, and his mind boiled as he tried to make sense of what just happened – of what was happening – of what was probably going to happen.

Finally he stopped pacing, and turned to level a bone chilling glare at Logan. "Don't think that I haven't noticed you never answered my question, Logan. Now I think the world of you – we've been through a lot together, and I know what a tender heart you are, so I'm gonna help you out here. If you honestly didn't hide Grace, then you give yourself time to heal and you come on out in the bar. We'll have a drink, and we'll see what Nuada says . . . and if you aren't involved in any of this, I'll personally guarantee he never puts another finger on you. But so help me if you did, you better walk out that back door and disappear – you better go to wherever the hell she is and you better talk her into coming home, because I dare you to set foot back in my territory before she does." Eric didn't say another word, just walked out, somehow knowing that it would be a very long time before he saw his friend again.

***************************************

"What the fuck was I thinking!" Grace growled out, pacing herself. She was echoing Eric's sentiments, and just like her vampire friend, she was wondering how she would ever survive waiting the next twenty minutes or so. "I cannot freaking believe I let the two of you talk me into this shit!"

"It is for the best, Pinilyaer," Glorfindel insisted, "a step in the right direction so your kind says."

"It might be a step in the right direction, but it's gonna get me killed," Grace snapped out angrily, sucking on a cigarette like it was going to save her life as she tore around that kitchen one more time. She was just rounding the counter when a phone rang, and she watched curiously as Jaus answered. It didn't take above average intelligence to know that something was terribly wrong, even though he began speaking in a foreign language that Grace was guessing was some form of German. Jaus became more agitated by the second, his entire body becoming rigid with anger as his voice grew louder and louder. By the time he hung up, Grace was positive he was going to explode. "What happened?" she asked anxiously. "What's wrong?"

Jaus stared at Grace for a moment, his face blank but his eyes pure venom. "It seems that my brother was indeed serious when he told me he might very well be putting his life in danger by helping you," he said coldly, "because your Nuada just staked him in Eric Northman's office."

Grace screeched in shock and horror, her hands flying to her mouth as tears filled her eyes, and Glorfindel quickly stepped to her side to calm her. "Is your brother . . .?" the elf asked quietly, placing a comforting arm around her.

"He's not dead," Jaus answered through clenched teeth, "seems Nuada got interrupted by a phone call before he could finish him off . . . Logan said if it hadn't he was fixing to kill him."

"Then he's not dead," Grace managed to murmur, "Logan's not dead!"

"No," Jaus repeated, "Logan is not dead, but Nuada assured him if you don't go home this very night that he will be."

All the color drained out of her face at his words - Grace never intended anyone to get hurt in this, especially not the vampire who was kind enough to help her. She began to shake violently as a harsh dose of reality came crashing over her, and both Jaus and Glorfindel wondered if she would fall down before Glorfindel managed to help her get seated on a stool. "I'm getting people killed," she whispered, "all because I don't want me or Sookie to die . . . I can't get away . . . I'll never get away from these fucking people." The tears began to roll down her face as Grace sat there, knowing that she would never let Nuada hurt Logan because of her. If going home was the only way to stop her guardian then that was what she would have to do, but it simply tore her apart to think of letting them continue what they were doing to her . . . and then there was still Sookie. Her hands clamped over her mouth to stifle a sob as Grace imagined her cousin being held down and burnt by the fairy fire, and Glorfindel struggled to find a way to reassure her.

"I do not believe there is a way to avoid this situation, but I do believe there are options," he told her firmly.

"There aren't any options," Grace whispered miserably, "I'm gonna have to go back, and they're gonna take me to that place, and they're gonna . . . they're gonna . . ." She could not finish, her voice breaking into pure retched cries of sorrow, and Glorfindel's very heart broke at the sound of them.

That elven warrior had listened to Grace wretch her very soul out that morning in the rose garden, had seen her reduced to a pitiful state that night at Crash Mansion, then watched her suffer through that horrible scene on the Imladris terrace when she discovered the truth. The human girl had endured enough, and the golden warrior did not intend to listen to her ever cry again. "Pinilyaer, look at me for a moment," Glorfindel ordered firmly, turning Grace around on that bar stool and taking her face into his hands. "Concentrate only on me, focus on my eyes and open your thoughts."

Reaching out to her with his mind, that ancient elf used Grace's cooperation to power right through the spell on that ring, quickly running through the wide array of memories that she recovered on the terrace of Imladris. They were heart wrenching to say the very least. Being taken to Facility Four was most certainly anything but a pleasant experience, and Glorfindel could clearly see why she did not want to go back. His frown deepened with every passing vision, but when he rifled over the memories of the last time Nuada and Grace were at Facility Four together, Glorfindel nearly exploded. He had known that something terrible happened that day, but he had not searched Grace's thoughts when he helped bring her to Rivendell – he had known it was bad simply because of what Haldir went through - but he never, ever imagined it was like that. The final straw? Glorfindel knew that Grace was absolutely correct – Niall intended to do the very same thing to Sookie. He had heard the fairy lord say so himself.

"I will return," he said firmly, and the instant he released her, the elf was gone.

Grace said nothing, refusing to look at Jaus as she turned to cower at the kitchen island and contemplate her bleak future, but in less than a minute that future was going to change, and in a very dramatic fashion. Jaus was just beginning to speak when Glorfindel returned, and his jaw nearly dropped to his knees when that vampire saw what the elf had done – or better yet, who the elf had gone to get. "I believe this will change your position somewhat, little one," he said loudly, releasing the obviously shaken, bloody and now deeply shocked vampire in his arms.

"Logan?" Jaus exclaimed in complete bewilderment, his voice bringing Grace's head right up out of her hands.

"Oh my fucking god," she said, seeing her friend now standing in the middle of that kitchen, his clothing reduced to rags, every inch of his body covered in blood. She was off that bar stool and across that ceramic floor in a heartbeat.

"Your god had nothing to do with this," Glorfindel growled out harshly, "but I certainly did. This evening I set out with Haldir of Lórien to secure the vampire named Logan, and to find out where you were – yet while I have now completed both tasks, I fear that in our desire to find you, we nearly caused this creature's death. Our actions were not acceptable. Elves value life, they do not seek to endanger it, even by a simple mistake. Bringing him here and ensuring his safety is the correct thing to do."

Grace glanced at Glorfindel strangely, but she was too busy looking over her friend to listen very carefully. She did not believe that her healing powers would be of any good on a vampire, but then she had never tried them – and she would not need to – his wounds were all but gone, although he seemed to be in some state of shock, and Grace could not blame him. As she ran her hands over the rapidly disappearing gashes in his neck and chest, she was quickly reaching that point herself. "Logan, are your positive you're alright?" she said uncertainly, meeting his haunting stare for the first time.

Grace was terrified he would be furious at her, might never want to speak to her again for the terrible troubles she had caused him, but unbelievably Logan offered her a faint smile and pulled her into his arms for a hug. "I'll be fine Grace, don't worry – it's over now."

Watching them carefully, Glorfindel turned to Jaus. "Does this satisfy my debt to you and your brother?" The vampire seemed confused at his comment, so Glorfindel explained. "My friend brought Nuada's attention to your brother and caused his harm, yet now he is not only alive, he is safe – here with you. So tell me, are you now satisfied? Have I made proper amends, or do you require something further?" Logan and Grace both turned to stare at Glorfindel like he had lost his mind, but Jaus understood the elf perfectly – and when Logan regained his faculties, he would as well.

"I'm very satisfied, and now I consider my family in your debt," Jaus offered graciously, "and it is my honor to meet you – Glorfindel." As a former medieval knight, he realized the enormous value of taking responsibility for your actions, and he found himself suddenly possessing an unbelievable respect for that hulking blond man with the strange pointed ears, and for the entire species he represented.

Glorfindel reciprocated his politeness with his own, placing a hand over his heart and inclining his head in a proper elf greeting. "I am also honored to meet you, Jaus and Logan. I am Glorfindel, the Golden Warrior, one of the ancients of the elven people and a resident of Rivendell. Are you positive there is nothing further I can offer to you?"

Jaus answered swiftly. "You can answer a question . . . I'm guess from your presence here tonight, that you feel the same way we do . . . that you don't agree with what's being done to Grace . . . that right?"

"That is correct." Glorfindel answered firmly. "The decision as to the Pinilyaer's future is hers and hers alone, and I intend to ensure that she is the one who makes it . . . it will not be made for her."

"Well thank god you're on our side," Jaus murmured almost to himself, joining Grace at Logan's side to offer his brother assistance, although the vampire was already well on his way to recovery. His cuts were already closed, and within a few more minutes that stake wound would be no more than a very unpleasant memory. "Brother are you well?" he asked with concern.

"I am," Logan answered, already sounding stronger. He realized where he was now, and he did not feel any fear for Glorfindel. The hulking elf had nearly scared him out of his skin by snatching him through the window of that Cadillac a few minutes ago, but it was a damn sight better than what Nuada had just finished doing, and he'd only brought him to his brother. That had to mean that Glorfindel didn't mean to harm him. His mind struggled to take it all in, and Logan was weak from blood loss, but he was catching up fast, and his first concern was that blond haired mercenary that just finished trying to carve him into little pieces . . . where the hell was Nuada now, and was he coming back? He needed to know, and he needed to be prepared in case he did.

"But what was that telephone call about? Nuada said something about Grace demanding Niall go to Los Angeles to talk with her."

"That is correct," Glorfindel interrupted. "I will be escorting her to his offices in a very short time, and we will begin trying to negotiate some agreement between them to end this nonsense."

"You can't fucking be serious," Logan exploded, Jaus actually having to restrain him as he reached for Grace and tried to pull her behind him. "No way are you taking Grace within a mile of that god damn maniac who just sliced me apart! You've lost your freaking mind!"

Glorfindel frowned, but he remained resolute. Judging from the looks of him, Nuada had given Logan a good working over - it was no surprise he felt the way he did – and the elf was positive Nuada would be present at this impromptu meeting. "I respect your opinion, vampire, but Grace has agreed to go, and go we will. Nuada is a very dangerous creature that commands respect – as am I. Grace has my word that I will not leave her side. She may speak her peace, and she may then do as she desires, but without her permission I can assure you Amarande Nuada will not lay one finger on this human."

Everyone in that room stared at the elven warrior with rapt attention – and they were all thinking the exact same thing – they were trying to imagine what it would be like if Glorfindel and Nuada went to war with one another . . . and Grace was pretty damn sure she was about to find out.


	44. Bad Blood

Chapter 44 – Bad Blood

Vampire Penis.

Grace never expected to be looking at one, yet she was – and it was a damn fine specimen at that. Very well proportioned, nice smooth pale flesh . . . shiny little gold ring right in the end of it. Very nice vampire penis - very, _very_ nice penis. She was rather enjoying getting to look at it . . . but she wasn't going to get to touch it. Glorfindel was.

"Delos! You cannot be serious," Glorfindel said, averting his eyes. That elf was looking at it too – or more correctly, he was trying NOT to look at it – and he didn't seem to feel quite the same way about it that Grace did. Matter of fact, he didn't feel the same way at ALL.

"You said we had to hurry, and I'm giving my necklace to Logan. This is the only other piece of jewelry I've got! Why won't it work?" Jaus answered seriously. He was standing in the middle of that beach house kitchen after just having dropped his pants to his ankles. Butt ass naked from the waist down, he obviously felt no shame whatsoever – as evidenced by the way he was casually holding that very, very nice vampire penis in his hand. He was flaunting that piercing to Glorfindel as if it were something he did every day, and maybe it was – to other vampires - but that elf's eyes were about to fall out the socket.

"There is an article of jewelry inserted through your . . . your . . ." Glorfindel stammered, casting another disbelieving glance at Jaus's groin. Never. Never in all his endless immortal years had he imagined such a travesty being performed to the intimate flesh of a male, yet there it was . . . right there . . . being pointed in his direction.

"It's called a Prince Albert," Grace informed her naïve elf friend smugly, fighting back the gut wrenching fit of laughter she felt threatening. Oh my god, this was priceless! If there had ever been anything with the power to break the seriousness of seeing Logan cut up and covered in blood, Jaus whipping out his masculinity and offering his penis piercing to Glorfindel for a blocking spell was definitely it . . . oh yes, most definitely!

Everyone in that beach house had been scrambling since Glorfindel piped up a minute earlier and noted the obvious: if he and Haldir could locate Logan in the human world, so could Nuada. Unless they wanted that pissed off mercenary in the kitchen with them, two vampires needed blocking spells pronto - and that meant needing something to put them on. Logan didn't wear jewelry, and Grace's had all been left behind during her impromptu cross-state fleeing episode. She couldn't part with that magic ring of Gandalf's, so the necklace around Jaus's neck was all they had - and there were TWO vampires. Somebody had to get creative, and bless his heart, Jaus did - offering the only other piece of jewelry available - and good heavens was it a doozy.

"Spare me the look!" Jaus snapped. "As many vamps have these piercings as don't have them, and don't even try to convince me you're an immortal, and you've never touched another man's dick! Please . . . we're all adults here!"

Glorfindel's eyes widened as his cheeks flushed deep crimson, while both Logan and Grace struggled to swallow smiles. Immortal Elf Morality vs. Long Lived Vampire Sexual Experimentation – now that was a debate for the ages! It was also enough to make Grace contemplate buying a camcorder for the first time ever, because the improbability of watching these two worlds collide definitely deserved to be recorded.

Cursing under his breath, Glorfindel refused to acknowledge Jaus's remark, snatching the pendant from the vampire's hand to give it a quick glance . . . then he glanced at the OTHER object. These two worlds weren't necessarily going to collide, but they were certainly about to touch . . . "The only hiding spell I can recite from memory is short lasting, and I certainly do NOT intend to relive this heinous barbarity every two weeks!" he growled out hastily.

"Why? We might both enjoy it," Jaus offered in an almost seductive tone, batting his eyes with enough allure to make a paid prostitute proud and causing Grace to snot Dr. Pepper through her nose so hard she left dark little droplets all over the kitchen countertop. My god – vampires simply had no shame.

Snorting in dismay himself, that golden haired elf gave Jaus a warning look that could have frozen water. "Be very careful what you wish for, mellon nín," he cautioned, reluctantly dropping his eyes to Jaus's exposed flesh. The elf was obviously trying to psych himself up for this, but it wasn't working.

Thankfully, just as Glorfindel's hand began to make forward progress, the vampire stopped him. "What about that paper?" he asked in a rush, looking to Grace. "That scroll we found . . . if it's an elf spell, wouldn't he know? Maybe we can use that, if it's a better one."

Glorfindel looked confused for a split second, then his reddened cheeks paled. He knew exactly what piece of paper they were referring to, and he cringed. He did not want to reveal the power or importance of the spell on that parchment, but he sure as hell was not going to be putting a spell on a vampire's private parts every few weeks either! "Valar be merciful, what have I done to deserve this?" he murmured to himself. Turning to Grace, he said something he absolutely did not want to. "If you are referring to the parchment from Haldir's cloak, it is indeed a blocking spell and a powerful one at that. Fetch it Pinilyaer, and quickly please."

Grace took off at a run, tearing through that kitchen and ripping into her suitcase like a woman possessed. She knew exactly where it was, and returned in under a minute, victoriously clutching that sacred little piece of paper in her hand. She held it out to Glorfindel, then snatched it back as she reconsidered. "You can use it, but I'm keeping it – understand?"

Glorfindel looked at her coldly. At this particular moment in time, he didn't honestly care what the hell she did with that piece of yellowed paper after he finished reciting the spell on it! He extended his hand with a testy frown, and she obediently passed it over, knowing better than to push that hulking elf any farther at the moment.

"I do not believe the situations I have allowed myself to get involved in as of late!" he snorted in disgust, quickly unrolling it. Intent silver eyes flew over the words. He did not recognize the incantation, but Glorfindel could certainly read it, and there was no reason it would be used any differently than another spell - Recite and Rejoice. Almost imperceptibly grimacing, the elf continued to hold the parchment in one hand, while clutching the necklace in his other, but he needed to take hold of something else . . .

"Need some help?" Grace offered seriously, coming up beside him. Her life might royally suck, but this was one of those moments that made living worthwhile, and she wanted the best possible view. Glorfindel was about to take personal protection to a whole new dimension!

"Mae, hold it." Glorfindel grumbled, turning to stare at her impatiently when she did not move. "Did you not just offer to assist?" he demanded, scowling at her affirmative nod. "Then why are you simply staring at me?!" he growled. "Do you truly intend to help me with this, or did you simply offer to test my patience? Because I can assure you . . ."

"I don't know if you want me to hold the paper or the prick!" Grace blurted out loudly, interrupting what she was positive would have been one very memorable ass chewing rant.

"Den rhacho ni nuath! Hold the parchment, Pinilyaer – the _parchment!_ " Glorfindel instructed, shoving that most important slip of paper back toward Grace. Visibly collecting himself, he kept Jaus's necklace in one hand and once again reached out with the other. It met its destination this time, and the strangest expression came over his face as his fingers closed around Jaus's cool flesh. The single positive thing that elf could think of, was that Haldir of Lórien was not here to witness this – because after the grief he handed his friend over that "elf under the desk episode", that damn marchwarden would not let him forget this moment if they both lived another fifty millennia!

Unfortunately, it seemed Jaus was not going to forget it either. The vampire's fangs popped out in immediate appreciation when he felt that large warm golden hand take hold of his flesh, and when he actually closed his eyes and grunted softly, Grace was positive she would never survive – not with a straight face anyway – because staring and smiling simply could not be suppressed at this point. She'd listened to Sookie talk about all the unbelievable things she had seen over the past few years, but even her beloved cousin never got to watch a hulking elf warrior give a vampire a hand job for the sake of saving his life! She bit her lip until it bled to keep from laughing.

Glorfindel was fighting to remain composed himself, drawing from centuries of intestinal fortitude to ignore both the change in Jaus's teeth, and the obvious tightening of his flesh as he began to speak. Physical contact with the intended targets was an integral part of the spell working, and as every foreign word tumbled from his lips, Glorfindel rubbed his thumbs over the receiving objects - and at least one of them appreciated that impromptu massage – a lot.

"Phantasie!" Jaus murmured in his native tongue, running his tongue over his fangs as he ran a most appreciative look over Glorfindel - all of Glorfindel - and that elf's eyes got narrower with every lingering gaze. Within seconds, they were mere slits and Grace got the terrible feeling that her elf friend was contemplating ending the life of one very attractive, blond haired, bi-sexual male vampire by tearing him limb from limb – and he was probably gonna start with that extremely well proportioned pierced penis in his hand.

"Concentrate people!" Grace interrupted loudly, passing Jaus some of the looks she normally reserved for Eric Northman – the "shut your stupid ass up before you get hurt" stare followed by the "there isn't a brain in your head bigger than a turnip seed" frown. "This is to keep you from getting killed Jaus, remember?" she said pointedly, noting that Glorfindel's little penile massage was obviously clouding his ability to form coherent thought.

Glorfindel had turned three shades brighter, but thankfully the spell was not a long one, and no sooner could Glorfindel spit out those last words, than he snatched his hand away from Jaus and stepped back. His face was red as a strawberry in summertime, and the expression on his face dared Grace to open her mouth as he handed her that pendant. "Put this on Logan," he ordered firmly, heading for the sink to wash his hands.

Biting her lip that much harder, she tucked the parchment into her pocket and headed for Logan. He had seated himself on one of the kitchen barstools, and while his wounds had closed, he seemed five times paler than he typically was. He still offered her a smile, as she put the necklace around his neck and fastened it. "Nuada can't find you now - nobody can," Grace said kindly, but her face had fallen into a sad and strained expression. "I almost got you killed tonight, but I swear it won't happen again," she promised in a shaky voice. "I'll find some way to make this stop."

Logan's expression was gentle as he took her hand in his, those dark green eyes luminous. His voice was hushed, but his words were sincere. "Grace, don't you dare do anything stupid because of what happened to me tonight. Jaus and I are together now, and we can handle whatever comes this way . . . It's obvious that elf can handle himself, but I don't want you to anywhere near those people. Now I've got to leave, but I'll come back and I'll stay with you if you want. You don't have to do this. We can keep you safe."

"Why are you leaving? Where do ya'll have to go?" Grace asked, confused.

Logan frowned slightly, knowing his words would upset her. "Grace . . . my cuts are closed, but I lost a lot of blood . . . I've got to feed," he told her reluctantly.

She looked at him oddly, then shook her head – stupid! It had not occurred to her that Logan needed blood to replace what he had lost. "I think there's some TrueBlood in the downstairs fridge, want me to go get some? If it's not the type you like, I'll go to the store. Just tell me what you want," she offered, thrilled if she could do even the tiniest thing to help make up for what he'd gone through.

He squeezed her hand, knowing she wanted to help him. "Grace, I don't need a bottle of TrueBlood . . . I need to actually feed tonight, to help finish healing."

Grace looked at him for a minute, digesting his words. It wasn't a shock. She'd seen vampires feed on humans in Fangtasia, although she certainly tried not to. She's even seen the bite marks on Sookie where Eric took from her. Drinking blood was just part of life around vampires. "Then take mine," she said suddenly, shocking Logan until he almost fell off that bar stool.

"No!" Logan exclaimed, looking at her in complete disbelief.

"Seriously, take mine," she offered again.

"I am not!" Logan said loudly, drawing the others attention. "You're terrified of being bitten by a vampire again, and you've been through enough. I'm not feeding on you!"

"Why the hell not?" Grace insisted. "I'm the reason you need blood, and I'm the one offering. You too damn good to bite me?"

"Jaus will take me somewhere in a few minutes to feed, and I'm not biting you because . . . because . . . because it's just not right damnit!"

"He's right Grace. We both appreciate the gesture, but please - that's not necessary," Jaus interjected, backing up his brother. It had taken him a minute to get over his personal moment, and now he was rather anxious to be leaving himself. He wanted to go feed too, and that wasn't all he wanted.

"It most certainly is necessary!" Grace snapped, bringing a cigarette to her lips and sucking on it so hard she nearly inhaled the whole damn thing. "He needs blood, because of ME . . . so why can't I be the one he gets it from?"

"Pinilyaer, please! Never forget your history with such things. Your desire to help others is an honorable one, but while your gesture is well intended, you must think of yourself as well. Placing your own life in danger to save another does not appear to be the best way," Glorfindel said. He had now recovered his composure. His face was almost back to its normal color.

"Well, Logan just got staked because of me! I believe that qualifies as having your life put in danger now doesn't it? So why can't I do the same for him? I'm the only human here, and what the hell's wrong with my blood? I get sick when I DRINK vampire blood – that doesn't have a damn thing to do with a vampire drinking MINE! And I'm beginning to think that's not the problem here anyway," she fumed, flicking the remnants of her cigarette into the ashtray. She'd incinerated the whole damn thing with the flames of aggravation now flying from her fingertips.

The humor of what she just witnessed was already gone, and the harsh reality of her situation had returned with a vengeance. "Tell me the truth," she demanded, fixing Logan with rapidly darkening eyes. "You don't want to drink my blood because I'm some fucked up fairy concoction now . . . you aren't afraid of making me sick, you're scared if you drink my blood, it'll kill you. Isn't that right?"

"Grace, that's not true," Logan said honestly. He thought very highly of Grace – too highly in fact – and taking blood from her would add an aspect to their relationship he was not quite prepared for, particularly given the circumstances of this night.

"Yes it is," she answered, the pain in her voice clear to everyone. "I'm a god damned travesty of existence. I'm so fucked up, I'm not even good enough to be used for vampire food."

"Pinilyaer, never say such things of yourself!" Glorfindel scolded harshly. "Let the creature take care of his needs in the way he sees fit. We need to be going anyway. There is much yet to tend to this night."

Grace glanced to the clock on the stove. The elf was right. If she intended to follow through with that meeting, their time was almost up. She looked back to Logan - knowing he did not want her to go – but absolutely determined not one more drop of blood would ever be shed on her behalf. "Please let me do this for you," she begged softly. "You've done so much for me. It's just not fair."

Logan's face clouded. He could not deny that he needed to take fresh human blood and soon, nor could he deny that he had spent more time than he'd care to admit contemplating what it would be like to drink from Grace - preferably during sex - but they were friends, and he was positive she was in love with Nuada. "Grace . . . I just don't think that's a good idea . . ."

"I swear I want to," Grace insisted, sidling right up to him. Logan had discarded that ripped up shirt, and she was only wearing a bathing suit top and a pair of the shortest cut off jeans any man in that room had ever seen. That was a lot of skin to ignore, and when she eased between his legs and pressed herself up against him, Logan stiffened all over.

"Grace," he warned, but his fangs were already extending, his voice lowering as his groin tightened.

She noticed the changes, but she refused to let them frighten her. Instead, she let them encourage her, telling her that she could definitely persuade him to agree – and Grace wanted Logan to agree. She was desperate to know that she had helped heal the wounds her friend suffered on her behalf this night so positive he would succumb to some seductive prodding, she took the tips of her fingers and traced the outline of his lips, intentionally brushing her thumb over one of his now completely lengthened fangs, watching him tremble when she did. Then she put her face right next to his, whispering in his ear, "do it."

He trembled as she sank her hands in that long blond hair, pulling his head down toward her neck, and instinctively his arms went around her. Logan immediately appreciated the warmth of her flesh. Grace felt so – alive - he could only imagine what that fairy blood would taste like. His pupils narrowed to predatory slits as he almost involuntarily nuzzled her neck, breathing in that delicious scent of tangerines, flowers and suntan oil. It was intoxicating and he was fighting to resist, but Grace had learned far too much from watching Sookie Stackhouse bait Eric Northman for him to win this fight. She knew exactly how to slide herself against him and arch her neck, just offering herself to him.

Glorfindel was watching from the kitchen sink about to incinerate, but he did not utter a sound. The idea of a vampire feeding from Grace disgusted him, but her offer did not surprise him in the least. Grace had inherited the powerful gift of fey healing. It was simply a natural compulsion she could not deny, and as Jaus watched too, he knew he certainly wouldn't be denying it. His fangs were out, and he'd already licked them – twice. If big brother was on that bar stool, he'd already be nursing on that neck. "Decide Logan," he prodded, but his twin already had.

Nuzzling had already morphed into licking, Logan running a cool tongue along Grace's jugular vein. She had wisely offered him the unscarred side of her neck, knowing he would never touch the other one, and Logan was indeed ready to touch it. He stopped at her ear, his voice raw with need when he whispered to her. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

She offered an affirmative sigh in return. Her eyes had locked on that stainless steel refrigerator, her mind far away, completely focused on the blond haired man she wished was the one licking on her neck. The touch of Logan's hair against her fingers was sheer torture, reminding Grace how Nuada's felt that morning he left her, and tears had already began to touch her eyes when his fangs pierced her flesh. She was positive this was going to be the most revolting thing she had ever endured, but what Grace experienced was something else entirely.

Her body threatened to fold beneath the unexpected sensation of two piercing points of pain, but when that discomfort was instantly replaced with one crashing wave of sheer boiling pleasure, she gasped. The sound brought Glorfindel away from that sink, but Jaus immediately stopped him. "She's fine, you'll see," he assured the elf, and indeed Grace was fine. Matter of fact, she was more than fine.

Sookie had tried to explain to Grace what it was like to be bitten, but never in a hundred years would that sheltered girl from South Carolina have imagined this. It seemed that Logan's fangs were caressing every nerve from her neck directly to her crotch, and Grace went into sensory overload in under a millisecond. "Mother of God," she groaned, feeling every hair on her body stand up when he took that first draw. Her hands instinctively tightened in his hair, clutching Logan's head to her neck as her eyes glazed over in pure lust. When he pulled deeper, nursing the very life from her veins, Grace went weak. Shuddering from head to toe, she now relied on his arms to hold her up as she collapsed boneless against him.

"Oh Christ," she breathed out, positive if Logan did that a few more times she was going to find herself sexually pleasured in the most unlikely way imaginable, and that was exactly what that gorgeous blond vampire feeding from her intended to happen.

Logan was a kind and compassionate creature, well known and well liked, but he was also a five hundred year old child of the darkness who harbored desires same as every other vampire – and he desired Grace. Logan had lusted over her for months, and she'd just voluntarily offered herself to him on a silver platter. Circumstances forgotten, it was a dream come true, and now that Logan had decided to go ahead and live that dream, he intended to savor every tantalizing second of it.

Greedily gathering her closer, Logan basked in every sensation. Her skin spread beneath his fingers like hot satin, her scent drifted against his face like a tropical breeze, and while her blood carried a peculiar tang it was pure ambrosia as it slid down his throat. Logan knew he had to limit how much blood he took, so he intentionally drug it out, carefully moderating every painstaking taste, but soon the unbelievably pleasing presence of that immortal elf blood flowing through Grace's veins began to seep through his, teasing Logan off that bar stool.

A growl of contentment purred from his throat when he scooped Grace off the floor and put her on the countertop. A demanding hand came to cradle the back of her head, while the other planted itself right across her ass, pushing her against him. He was hard as a rock and made no effort to hide his arousal, shamelessly thrusting himself into her crotch and groaning with pleasure as her legs automatically came around him. There could be no more perfect revenge for what Logan endured this night than sating his blood lust on the woman Nuada loved, and sating her in the process was going to be the cherry on top.

Edging ever closer to an impromptu public orgasm, Grace found herself being sucked into a sea of uncontrollable lust, and powerless to stop. Nuada had always been able to bring her intense pleasure, but vampire pleasure was on an entirely different plane of existence. Logan's bare flesh against hers was cool and wildly erotic, and with every draw of her blood, she could feel herself being pulled deeper into a boiling abyss of passion one lost drop at a time. Her consciousness had dimmed to a lustful craving for completion, and when she struggled to focus on the front of that stainless steel refrigerator and envision Nuada's face, she couldn't. All Grace could conjure was the cruel image of his pale flesh slamming into that whore at Crash Mansion, and as the memories of that werewolf's groans went tearing through her mind, Logan tore one from her very soul.

Involuntarily crying out as her flesh convulsed and a storm of rapture swept her away, Grace found her mind filled with a most unexpected and downright deliciously evil thought. This was only fair – and she deserved to enjoy it.

Grace was hardly aware when Logan carefully eased his fangs from her flesh, only knowing that the soothing licks of his tongue against her flesh were cool and wonderful. Her hands were still clenched in his hair, and several minutes passed before either was willing to let the other go. His mouth returned to her ear as his grip began to ease. "It's always better the second time," he whispered before stepping away.

Those words were enough to set her soul on fire, not that Grace wasn't already. Blue flickers now roared beneath her flesh, and the heat flowing from those thunderous grey eyes left little doubt just how little it would take for Logan to find himself flat on the floor of that kitchen with her on top of him. Sheer lust hot enough to make the air tremble seeped from her very pores, and Logan and Jaus both realized that once you got a fey warmed up, it might prove to be a challenge to cool them back down again.

"Is what he said true?" Glorfindel asked curiously, watching Grace as she sat there flushed and panting. He found himself both appalled and intrigued by the wanton displays of sexuality being paraded through this house. Elves were sexual introverts, and it went against every engrained elven moral that warrior possessed to even witness such things, but he could not deny that it was most enticing to see raw pleasure being enjoyed in such a way.

"Yes it is . . . and if you ever want to find out, do let me know" Jaus answered in a husky tone, his own eyes smoldering after just witnessing that little display. "Now get your girl while I get my brother. We both have places to go."

***********************************************

Hands uncrossed. Fingers tapped. Cuff links were straightened. The time was checked.

A foot shifted. Wrinkled flesh fell into a frown. Lightning flickered. The time was checked.

An immaculate tie was imperceptibly shifted. Fingers tapped harder. The time was checked.

"You simply must quiet yourself, Nuada. This agitated motion of yours helps nothing!" Niall finally said, speaking much louder than was necessary, his typically lilting voice harsh and staccato as it barked out the words. The fairy lord knew if he watched that long blond hair swing out in an arc one more time as that mercenary paced across his Los Angeles conference room, he would surely explode.

To his relief, the pacing stopped. To his dismay, the ranting began.

"Do you not see my flesh?" Nuada retched out in return. "Look! Look at the marks here," he said, jerking back the collar of his shirt to expose the fresh puncture marks there. "Erulissë has been bitten by another vampire within the past fifteen minutes, and we have not heard from her. She may at this very moment be dying, and I cannot get to her! I cannot save the woman I love!" His eyes had begun to tinge red with anger and his voice broke, his fist coming up to be bitten between trembling lips. If something happened to Grace, Nuada honestly did not believe he would survive it, but the chair he sent across flying across that room thirty seconds later certainly wasn't going to help matters. Neither was the second or third that followed. The single thing it did accomplish, was to force Niall Brigant to move from the seat he had silently occupied for the past forty-two minutes and place himself in a different one – and to casually brush several splinters of mahogany wood from his hair.

Both Nuada and Niall had wrongfully assumed that Grace's demand for her great-grandfather to make himself available in the Los Angeles office, translated into the fact that she intended to call him, so there they were: obediently waiting in a ridiculously expensive expanse of a luxury LA business suite, surrounded by plate glass windows offering the finest views of the city, watching a storm build on the horizon and hoping for a telephone to ring – but it did not ring. The telephone sat there, taunting them - just as the twin puncture marks that suddenly appeared in Nuada's neck were taunting them – showing them both that she had been bitten by a vampire, proving that they had no way to go to her, flaunting the fact that there was not a solitary thing they could do about it.

Taunting and flaunting were two things that were going to be carried out to perfection within the confines of those walls, and when Glorfindel and Grace appeared in the corner of that conference room, she was more than ready to begin. "Ya'll waiting on me?" Grace drawled out in her typical southern sarcastic tone, shocking both Nuada and Niall to the very pits of their souls.

Neither man had remotely considered the possibility that Grace herself might make an appearance, and what an appearance it was: bronze skin and lust glazed eyes, half naked and covered in blood, oozing heat, pissed as hell and escorted by Glorfindel the Golden Warrior. It was an unconscionable combination – yet there Grace was, and she was all of the above.

"Valar in the heavens, what has happened to you child?" Niall exclaimed, coming out of his chair hard enough to throw it on the floor while instantly sending a roaring mental command for Lord Elrond to join them in case Grace required medical attention. The sight of his beloved great-grandchild's obviously thinned frame coated with Logan's blood where she hugged him earlier, with an obviously fresh vampire bite in her neck made him feel weak, and an ancient hand covered in wrinkled silken flesh instinctively made its way to cover a suddenly painful heart.

Two other hearts in that room were having some trouble too, and they belonged to two lovers who were more than a little surprised at the avalanche of emotions that came storming over them at seeing one another again. Both Grace and Nuada had been teetering on the edge of a complete meltdown for days, and suddenly being thrust in each other's faces was like pouring gas on a fire, and they both went up in flames.

Nuada started it. Like Niall, he was making a ravishing and overly perceptive assessment of Grace as well, but a lover's observations were much different than those of a great-grandfather. He skimmed right over that blood, heading directly for the lust still glazing in the depths of her eyes, that flush on her skin, and the unmistakably delicate scent of arousal that came drifting his way. A most experienced lover, he knew instantly that Grace had recently been pleasured. He knew exactly what had made her look that way, and he knew he was going to kill whoever made her look that way.

The blood of hatred poured into his eyes, darkening them to crimson pools as Thamuz's fateful words came roaring back into his mind . . . _to find a warrior's mate in the company of another male._ The very idea of another creature touching Grace was enough to drive Amarande Nuada into a frenzy, and he exploded like a volcano, spewing venom and seeping evil. "Erulissë, what the fuck have you been doing?" he screamed, shocking them all as he immediately began crossing that room in her direction. He intended to throttle that impossible little southern vixen, then he intended to drag her ass back home and keep here there forever!

Fat Chance.

Grace locked rapidly darkening eyes on crimson red with no hesitation whatsoever. She was as unimpressed with her guardian as she'd ever been with any creature in her entire life, and her expression left little doubt what she thought about him, or what she planned to do to him. Furious blue flames erupted from her flesh, competing with the blood smeared all over her chest, while her black eyes began to dance with sapphire lightning. She looked as if she was ready to kill someone, and even as she raked Nuada with a stinging but harmless mental glare, deep down that guardian knew he was one lucky creature. Whatever had changed between them was at that very moment saving his ass, because if Grace could have crushed him with her mind, she would most likely have done to him the very same thing she did to that vampire in the warehouse - and enjoyed it.

"Who the fuck have you been with?" Nuada demanded again, the air purely trembling around him he was so mad.

"Nuada, contain yourself and the Pinilyaer will speak to you," Glorfindel interrupted, seeing this rapidly spiraling out of control. "That is why we have come."

"I'm not containing shit!" he raged, white lightning now beginning to trace over his flesh. Nuada was rapidly losing control, and even Niall had rarely seen him in such a state. His eyes were glowing like fire, his entire body was flushed pink, and he looked possessed as he stared across that room at Grace. "But you are correct about one thing - Erulissë is going to speak to me! She is going to come to me this instant! She will tell me what the fuck she has been doing and who she has been doing it with! Then she will take her place at my side, and that is where she will damn well remain!"

"You have a better chance of breeching a virgin's ass on your first date than you do of me going to your side," Grace taunted sarcastically, "and who I've been with is none of your god damned business! Last time I checked, God didn't choose you to be my personal morality representative on sexual conduct . . . Mr. Fido Fucker, Friend Staker . . . so fuck off!"

 _Friend Staker_ . . . Nuada's jaw clenched as his brain cells seized and his mind went into a pure adrenaline landslide. He was already spewing silent threats to Glorfindel. Either that elf could start explaining just how he came to have Grace in his possession, or Nuada intended to put him through the conference table or the nearest wall. Death was optional, but it was something that would come quite easily at that particular moment, because it would take more self-control than Nuada had at his disposal not to eviscerate any creature participating in hiding Grace from him. And speaking of Grace, just how the hell could she possibly know that he staked Logan? It was impossible unless she had either talked to Eric Northman in the last twenty minutes, or to Logan himself . . . _Logan!_

Suddenly Nuada's mind went into a whole new mental gear as it worked those puzzle pieces. Grace had fang marks in her neck, so she'd obviously been bitten by a vampire, but if Logan was the one who bit her then she had to physically touch him . . . DUH! . . . Grace was covered in blood, and Logan had been covered in blood when he finished torturing him at Fangtasia! Obvious, Grace HAD been with Logan, but how the hell could she have possibly managed that? Suddenly Nuada's burning gaze crawled from Grace to that hulking elf hovering beside her – the elf with the power to transport other creatures – the puzzle was complete.

"Gweriad! I am going to choke you both! Glorfindel has somehow managed to put you together with that god damned vampire who is helping to hide you, hasn't he, Erulissë?" Nuada bellowed, finding Glorfindel immediately in his path, then finding him removed just as quickly. Grace had just armed herself with a broken chair leg from one of the chair he'd broken earlier, then shoved that elf out of the way with her mind. If that guardian wanted a piece of her ass, he could just come and get some, because trying to kill one of her friends was the best possible way to piss Laurel Grace off – bar none.

"That's absolutely right! This is Logan's blood and these are Logan's fang marks," Grace answered in a vindictive tone, turning her neck to flaunt those twin holes punctures in his face, "or have you already forgotten about trying to KILL MY FRIEND earlier tonight? He needed blood to heal, so I volunteered mine. Turned out to be quite . . . enjoyable! I never knew vampire penises could be so entertaining!"

Glorfindel gasped and turned red as a beet, while Niall's voice came careening across that room in pure angered disgust. "What abomination have you allowed yourself to participate in? Do not tell me that you have allowed a vampire to bite you voluntarily! And vampire penises? What in the heavens have you done? Have you taken leave of your senses, child?" the fairy exclaimed in horror.

"I took leave of my senses the day I sat in Rivendell and swallowed that shovel of shit you shoved down my throat about me being your beloved great-granddaughter and how his sorry fucking ass was always going to be there to watch over me," she hissed in return, "because they were lies! You are both nothing but professional liars and killers!"

"You are god damned right I am a professional killer," Nuada exploded, stalking her around that room, "and do not think that I will not finish what I started with that putrid blood drinker who has now bitten you!" He was so angry the actual breath coming from his nostrils was steaming the air, but he was also wary of Grace. That girl might not be able to crush him with her mind, but she could sure as hell send that chair leg his way and if he wasn't careful, he'd be the next one getting staked tonight.

"Back the fuck off, or I'm gonna make you eat this damn chair leg," Grace warned, just twirling it in the air to annoy him. "And you better start telling me how you haven't been anywhere near Cairbre either . . . or I'm gonna get another one!"

"Oh your little elven friend is still alive . . . for now," Nuada hissed, kicking a chair across the room to taunt her, "but he can die soon enough . . . just like the creature who has pleasured you! Now I demand you tell me the truth this very instant - Did you allow Logan to possess you? Has that vampire known the pleasures of your flesh?" His anger reverberated off the very walls of that room, but Nuada's voice was desperate, belying his actual emotional state.

Desperate voice or not, Grace didn't possess one ounce of sympathy for Nuada's ignorant cheating self. She could spew poisonous vitriol like vomit when she was pissed off, and boy did she, spitting venomous comments back at Nuada faster than he could listen. "Four blocks to the left, second floor elevator, black door in the back behind the dance floor. Black walls and black leather furniture hosting one red haired cunt named Serena. By my estimations, if I fucked Logan tonight, you're still up on me by at least twenty visits, and that's just since we got back from South Carolina, so don't flatter yourself by thinking I give a shit if I decide to sleep with someone and you don't like it! What goes around comes around asshole, and it's your turn now!"

She finished off by sending that chair leg right at his face, and if he hadn't gone diving behind a desk, she'd have driven it through his skull. As it was, she drove it through the bookcase, raining down books and antique collectibles on his head. There were shards of glass and tiny bits of paper clinging to his hair when that blonde head peeked up over that mahogany desk, and Nuada passed Grace a poisonous glare that could have wilted roses. "You missed, you fucking bitch!" He snarled, standing up to shake like a retriever fresh out of water to remove the bits of trash clinging to him. "But if you think that throwing chair legs at me changes anything you are sadly mistaken! I have no regrets for trying to find you, and now that you are here, believe that I will never allow your rude, foul mouthed body to be returned to your secret hiding place so you can whore yourself to a vampire to spite me!"

Rude? Whore? Faster than a death adder laying in wait, Grace threw flames and snatched a chair across that conference room like a piece of paper. Nuada didn't even have time to breathe before he got hurled into the wall behind him with his entire head caged in the legs of that chair. She rammed the seat of it into his face so hard his teeth rattled in his head. "Now the bitch is being rude!" she spit at him, watching in pure satisfaction as he fought against the chair to free himself.

""Pinilyaer, you are not a killer! Stop trying to impale Nuada with the furniture pieces!" Glorfindel said harshly. He could see this confrontation rapidly spiraling out of control, and while Grace never wanted to see him and Nuada go at it, that elven warrior never wanted to see Grace and Nuada go at it – and it was turning out to be as bad as he always imagined it would be.

"I might not be a killer, but I'm sure warming up to the idea," Grace hissed, her eyes never leaving that blond haired mercenary who was now free and glaring back at her, "and why shouldn't I be trying to kill him? Nuada is trying to kill my friends. Niall is trying to kill me. I'm starting to look at killing about the same as fucking – seems only fair to start evening things out a little – in my favor!"

Nuada's face turned to stone, while Glorfindel struggled to calm them both. "Nuada! Pinilyaer! Each of you must stop this nonsense before someone gets hurt," he ordered. "Nuada, no one has taken of the little one's flesh! Logan drank from her and I witnessed it – and Grace - we did not come here for you to tear this room apart! We can so you might speak with your great-grandfather and bring this entire misadventure to an end!"

Glorfindel was scolding them like a middle school principle who'd just hauled two fighting kids into his office, but unfortunately, the two kiddies weren't quite ready to settle their differences yet. Nuada still had every intention of crossing that room and putting his hands on Grace, and she still had every intention of taking a chair leg and hitting him up side the head with it. All anyone else was going to be able to do, was sit back and enjoy the show – which was exactly what Niall Brigant and Elrond were doing.

Niall was so horrified by the statement Grace just made, he was completely speechless, while Elrond was just as stunned by both her words and her appearance. Having just materialized beside his brother, he was still trying to gather his wits about him and figure out how Glorfindel and Grace came to be in that room. Last he heard, Glorfindel was in the Golden Wood with Haldir, and Grace was in hiding – yet there they were - and his brother had just called out for help; and indeed Grace looked like she needed help, but if she connected with another one of those chairs, Nuada just might be needing some too.

"Nuada, man carel le?" Elrond said firmly, hoping if Glorfindel could not calm that mercenary he could.

"I am claiming what is mine," he retorted, snatching a small glass bowl off the nearest shelf and sending it hurling toward Grace. They'd played this game before in the kitchen of that luxury apartment. She won that throwing match, but he could promise she wouldn't win this one.

The bowl was thin, blue and exorbitantly expensive, none of which stopped it from shattering against Glorfindel's hand when he tried to keep it from hitting Grace in the face. The elf managed to deflect most of it, but a large jagged piece caught Grace right beside her mouth, leaving an ugly gash. She didn't even notice the matching cut that instantly appeared on Nuada's face, but everyone else certainly did, and they too busy staring to even notice when she took hold of a huge potted plant in the corner.

Ready. Aim. Fire.

With alarming speed and accuracy. Grace sent fifty pounds of ferns and dirt in an oriental container flying across that conference room, and while the lightning popping outside those floor to ceiling plate glass windows was putting on quite a show, it was nothing compared to the impressive display of telekinetic manipulation Grace provided. All those days of practicing with multiple objects came into full reveal as Grace simultaneously put that planter into Nuada's chest, flipped over a huge mahogany desk trapping him, then emptied every single item off those massive bookcases on top of him. If Nuada had been human, he would've been dead. As it was, he was anything but. He was standing across the room beside Niall Brigant where he's just traced himself, and outside of a little dirt, he was perfectly fine – and perfectly pissed off. If that fairy hadn't grabbed him, he probably would have killed that girl.

"Pinilyaer, that creature is going to cut your heart out with a spoon if you do not stop this," Glorfindel warned incredulously, taking advantage of the momentary lull in action to get beside her again.

"Well he'll have to use a spoon, because the dumbass dropped his knife when he shoved it against my throat and threatened to kill me a few days ago!" Grace revealed, drawing startled stares from everyone – especially Lord Niall. That fairy still had hold of Nuada by the arm, and he wasn't letting go. Grace's mouthing had already revealed that Nuada staked a vampire earlier tonight, prompting his great-grandchild to let that vampire then feed on her, and now he was to learn that Nuada put a knife to her throat? Surely not!

"Child, tell me of what you speak! What is this of Nuada's knife and your throat?" Niall's voice demanded as it came rolling across that room. The fairy lord was rapidly approaching the place of losing his own temper, and while he didn't care how much furniture Grace destroyed, he cared very much if she had been harmed or threatened in any way.

Grace turned to run a bone grating glare over Nuada., and the sarcasm bleeding from her expression was unmistakable. Looked like somebody done got their ass in trouble with Great-Granddad again huh? Just as she had on the terrace of Imladris, Grace nearly dripped venom as her eyes ran over that blond mercenary. "You mean Nuada didn't tell you? Gosh, now that surprises me," she answered, taunting Nuada with every word. "A few days ago, he showed up in the house where I'm hiding dressed in his fancy killing clothes, and shoved that baby butcher knife he worships into my throat . . . then some fucking demon showed up later that night to lecture me about it – said if I didn't own up to being Nuada's mate, he intended to cut my head off with it."

All color left every face in that room, and when Grace tilted her chin back to flaunt that thin little scabbed ribbon across it, Niall Brigant gasped - and when those sea green eyes went running over Nuada and saw the matching scab tracing across his neck, he growled – at Nuada. It looked like all hell was about to break loose again, but before it could, Nuada instantly transported himself across the conference table and into the middle of that room.

"Nadirio, Glorfindel!" Nuada warned viciously, locking those burning red eyes on Grace. This fight was not over. No Fairy Lord and no Golden Warrior were going to keep him away from Grace – no way, no how.

"Mellon nín, there is no need for such things this night," Glorfindel answered firmly, "I told you, the Pinilyaer came here to make peace, to settle her differences so she might return home. This accomplishes nothing!"

"You are correct," Nuada replied coldly, "Erulissë will come to me, and that will be the end of this."

"I'm not coming to you Nuada, so last warning - back the fuck off," Grace hissed in return.

"Is that true?" Niall demanded loudly, effortlessly shifting himself to stand beside Nuada. He now also locked his gaze on Grace, wanting an answer. "Does the Golden Warrior speak your will? Is that why you came to this place tonight? To speak with me - to settle things?"

Grace met her great-grandfather's eyes. He was such a stunningly beautiful creature, and she wished more than anything she could erase that hint of disappointment from his face as he stood looking at her. "That's right, Glorfindel promised I could come here and I'd be able to tell you what I wanted. I came here to see you," she answered firmly, pointing to Nuada, "not to fight with him!"

"Then Nuada, let the child be," Niall demanded. "If Grace came to be heard by me, then I shall most certainly listen to her."

"I will never leave Erulissë be, because she is mine. You said so yourself the night you bonded us together," Nuada answered harshly, that mind numbing gaze still glued to Grace. "She may speak to you until she loses her voice, but it will be done by my side . . . and Erulissë knows that I would never harm her, don't you Erulissë? My Lirimaer knew in her heart before she came here, that I would never allow her to leave again, so let us not make this any worse than it has to be, Meluiben . . . you are angry with me, but you know that I love you, Erulissë, so end this now . . . tell Niall what it is that you want, then we will leave this place together."

Oh Nuada – poor, poor blond to the roots, doesn't have a clue about girls, Nuada. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, life's a bitch, and Nuada was about to get a crash course in Pissed Off Girlfriend Revenge 101. Lesson #1 = Thou shalt never extend any invitation to a pissed off human woman who wants nothing more at that particular moment in time than to make you suffer, particularly when it involves their Fairy Lord Great-Grandfather. Why? Lesson #2 = Because they will most certainly accept it, and they will bleed it for everything that it is worth. Watch, learn and suffer Nuada.

 _Erulissë . . .Tell Niall what it is that you want_ . . . Okie-dokie.

"Great-grandfather, you know what I want?" Grace answered as sweetly as possible, drawling out the words because she knew he liked it.

"Yes child, anything please. Tell me what it is you desire," Niall said sincerely, hanging on every word.

Reaching up, Grace brushed the blood off her face just for effect, taking her damp finger and looking at it pointedly before speaking. "You asked me a question on the terrace of Imaldris. Do you remember what it was?"

Everyone in that room frowned. Yes, they all did – it was quite an unforgettable offer – _"Child, do you want me to kill the whore for you?"_

"Yes I remember, child," Niall answered somewhat uncertainly, ignoring the instant stiffening of the creature beside him. "Am I to gather that in light of recent events, you may be reconsidering your answer?"

Grace practically smirked, sneaking a quick glance to Nuada just to appreciate how pale he'd gone. "Yes, I have and I'd really like to forget that night . . . I believe knowing that she's not around anymore could help me with that. Suppose you could make that happen for me?"

Nuada's jaw clenched until Grace heard it pop. "I certainly can," Niall answered graciously. "Anything else?"

You better believe it – the kick Nuada while he's down because he just staked my friend death blow.

"Well, yeah actually there is," Grace said coolly. "That's not your only question I've reconsidered. The first time we talked, you asked me if I trusted Nuada . . . did I want him to be my guardian . . . remember?" She paused, forcing her heart to calm and her mouth to work. It had gone completely dry and her lips felt numb. "Well, I'm afraid that answer's changed. I need a guardian that I can trust, so I think Glorfindel can watch over me just fine from now on. I don't want Nuada to be my guardian any more."

Her words echoed through that room like a death toll. Niall's eyes flew wide in stunned disbelief, while Elrond found himself clutching the back of a chair for support. Nuada looked as if he was going to either fall down or be sick, but while Grace had just lied through her teeth - feeling as if her heart had just left her chest with those words - thanks to that little gold ring on her finger not one soul there save her knew it, and she intended to keep it that way.

 _Then we will leave this place together_. . . Okie-dokie.

Positive she'd done enough damage for one night and desperate to leave before anyone realized how much she just hurt herself, Grace grabbed Glorfindel's hand and the two of them disappeared.

****************************

The first thing Grace did when they returned to the beach house was light a cigarette. She chain smoked four in a row, almost as if that growing burn in her throat was going to keep her from crying. It wasn't. She knew it, and so did Glorfindel. The elf had been watching her from his perch on the other side of that kitchen island, as if he was just waiting for her to crack. He knew it was coming.

"If I ever need anyone to lie for me, I know whom to contact," he said in a knowing tone, never shifting his eyes from the window. It had begun to rain the moment they returned.

"Well thanks for letting me know I did such a good job," she answered in little more than a haunted whisper. It was a back-handed compliment, but Grace knew exactly what her elf friend was saying to her. She loved Nuada, and she'd just intentionally hurt him for spite. He may have deserved it, but it was a vicious and cruel thing to do and in her broken heart, Grace knew she would suffer the effects as much as he would. She said nothing else, heading to the shower all the while secretly praying that wherever Nuada was, he didn't feel as bad as she did.

Nearly an hour passed before Grace emerged from the bathroom, and she knew the instant she opened the door something terrible had happened. The sounds of muffled male voices drifted from the kitchen along with horrible moans, and when she finally got up enough nerve to crack the bedroom door and peek out, splashes of dark red blood littered the kitchen floor. Her hand immediately came to clamp over her mouth to stifle a scream, positive Nuada had found them and come to kill Glorfindel. Mind racing, she wondered if she would be next, but quickly shoved the thought aside. No matter how many things they broke, Grace was positive Nuada would not honestly ever try to kill her . . . but that rule obviously did not apply to her friends. Shaking with fear, she opened that bedroom door, throwing it all the way back until it tapped against the wall. If Nuada was in that kitchen, the only thing to do was face him, so with trembling hands and shallow breath, she began to walk that way.

Thankfully, Grace did not find Nuada in that kitchen, but what she found instead was going to hurt her much worse. Logan was sitting on a bar stool, his head unceremoniously hung in the kitchen sink, puking his guts out while Glorfindel and Jaus watched. They were obviously waiting for her, and the second their eyes landed on her still damp form, she knew exactly what they were thinking. They were wondering if the angry words Grace spit at everyone earlier might very well have been true, because it certainly seemed Logan had been poisoned – by her blood.

"What happened to him?" Grace managed to ask in a strangled voice, not even noticing the blood squelching between her bare toes over the horror of Logan's violent retching.

"Your blood . . . what's wrong with it, Grace? Do you know?" Jaus demanded loudly, forced to raise his voice in order to be heard over Logan's groans and heaving. "What the hell have those people told you?"

"My blood?" Grace repeated, feeling her entire body go numb from her brain down. "My blood did that to him?"

"Bad . . .blood," Logan managed between gags, "dead . . . dead blood . . . Grace."

Glorfindel frowned desperately, and Grace wondered if she'd faint. Jesus fucking Christ, what was wrong with her now? Her hand instinctively went to those bite marks on her neck as she began to back away. Blood drops had splashed against the white cabinets, leaving tiny little red trails as they traced their way toward the floor, and her eyes became glued to them. She could almost hear them taunting her . . _. you are worthless . . . you are tainted . . . poison flows through your veins . . . you are nothing more than walking death._

Her emotions were threatening to boil over by the time she'd backed herself into the farthest corner, and she clenched her eyes shut, not needing to see anymore. Logan was still vomiting, so she clamped her hands over her ears, refusing to listen. Grace could not believe this was happening, not on top of everything else she'd been through tonight. Her mind threatened to fold along with her body as she leaned against the wall and struggled for sanity, praying to God above that finding out something was wrong with her blood wasn't going to be the revenge she suffered for what she'd done to Nuada earlier that night.

At some point Glorfindel came to her, forcing her hands away from her ears. He needed Grace to speak with him, and when she opened her eyes, they did indeed speak volumes. Twin pools of black ink stared out of a colorless face, the pure horror of a tortured existence burning in their depths. Grace did not need to say one word to that elf, for Glorfindel to understand perfectly. He had been waiting for Grace to crack. The elf knew from centuries of experience that every creature had their limits, and he knew that Laurel Grace had just breached the threshold of hers.

"Calm yourself, Pinilyaer, we need your help," Glorfindel said gently. He was steady as a stone on the outside, but secretly that elf was tremendously concerned. Grace hadn't been in the shower fifteen minutes before Jaus came tearing into that beach house with Logan draped over one shoulder. The obviously distressed creature had puked the entire way, leaving a blood trail that ran from the door of the Range Rover outside all the way through that kitchen. Jaus had shoved his brother's head in the sink, stuck a bar stool under his ass, then given Glorfindel the bad news. Not long after leaving the house, Logan became violently ill – and it just wouldn't stop. He'd tried giving him bottled blood, but it only got worse, and now he wasn't quite sure what to do. Logan honestly seemed as if he'd been poisoned somehow - and the obvious source was Grace.

"Pinilyaer, listen to me," Glorfindel said calmly. "Jaus intends to taste your blood . . . he believes he will be able to tell if your blood is the source of the problem . . . mae, yes you will let him do this for me?"

Grace's eyes flew to the blood on the floor, to Logan as he continued to throw up, then they made their way to Glorfindel's face. She looked at that elf like he's lost his mind. "No! Oh, God no! I can't let Jaus drink my blood and risk getting sick like that too! What if Logan dies? What if I kill them both? I didn't know there was anything wrong with me, I swear I didn't! I was just trying to help, I only wanted to help my friend!" Grace began to wring her hands and cry, saying the same exact thing again and again, growing more desperate and hysterical with each word. The healer in her had been determined to help, and the compassionate heart in her could not believe the disastrous results.

Not knowing what else to do, Glorfindel finally drew Grace in his arms, pulling her against that huge wall of muscles he called a chest to let her cry for a minute. The girl had suffered through one hell of a night, and she deserved a moment to collect herself. "Sedho, daro i. Stop that and quiet yourself," he told her softly. "You are not a monster, Pinilyaer, and everyone here knows that you would do nothing to intentionally harm your friend. Now you must calm yourself, so you can help us."

Thankfully, after a few minutes, Grace was able to somewhat regain her composure, although she was shaking like a leaf. It seemed as though she had gone into a state of shock, and she didn't make a single sound as Glorfindel led her out of that corner and placed her on one of the stools at the island. Her teary eyes began to follow a continuous path, rotating around that room from one blood splattered section of ceramic floor to the next and the next, over Logan's suffering form, then back again – over and over again.

"Grace, just calm down," Jaus offered soothingly, becoming quite worried as he watched her. "We don't even know what's wrong yet. Logan's mighty sick, but I'm pretty damn sure he's not gonna die, so just put that out of your mind." Jaus was praying while he was talking that was true. Logan didn't seem in any immediate danger of passing on, but there was most definitely something terrible wrong with his brother – and the only time Jaus had seen a reaction like that, was when a vampire fed on someone who was already dead.

"Hold yourself together, little one," Glorfindel ordered gently, the strength in his voice lending itself to her bedraggled soul. "We are going to help your friend. He will not die, I swear it."

Grace said nothing, not even acknowledging her cigarettes and lighter when Glorfindel politely placed them in front of her, but when Jaus started coming toward her she certainly acknowledged him. Having already been traumatized enough for one night by men with long blond hair, Grace offered him the one and only warning she intended to. "Don't bother me right now, Jaus," she cautioned in a shaky voice, shocking the vampire when she effortlessly slid him back a few feet when he continued to step closer.

"What the hell?" he said, almost to himself.

"Heed her warnings, mellon nín," Glorfindel cautioned seriously, "less you find yourself against that wall yonder next. The little one is quite powerful, and she is not one to be tested when distraught. I have already watched her nearly end a creature's life this night, and I fear you do not possess nearly the power to protect yourself as he does."

Jaus looked from that hulking elf to the small human sitting on that bar stool. Grace looked harmless enough, but if that elven warrior was wary of her, then obviously he needed to be as well. "Grace, I just want to taste your blood myself, that's all," Jaus assured her in a soothing tone. "I'm not entirely convinced there's anything wrong with you, and tasting for myself is the only way I'm gonna know for sure. You still want to help Logan don't you?"

It took everything she had, but Grace finally managed to pry her eyes off the back of Logan's head and look at Jaus. "You planning to bite me again?" she asked, terrified of what would happen to Jaus he did, but in a sick way almost wishing he would. Another roaring orgasm might be just the thing she needed right now.

"No," he answered, running his eyes over her face. The new cut she got when Nuada threw that bowl at her would do nicely. "I'm pretty sure I can get what I want from that mark on your face. That be ok with you?"

Grace frowned, looking almost confused.

"Will that be suitable, Pinilyaer?" Glorfindel prodded.

Reaching up, Grace touched her face. She'd forgotten all about the cut, although she didn't know how. That cut was the reason she'd been so long in the bathroom. She'd been standing there staring at it in the mirror, not believing that Nuada had actually drawn blood from her – and finding herself stunned when she realized as she played that memory back for the fifteenth time that he'd developed a matching mark on his face at the exact same time. She didn't know what that meant, but she didn't have the time to debate it right now either.

"Yeah, that's fine," she finally answered, watching Jaus as he cautiously came to stand beside her.

The mark on her face was bleeding slightly from the hot water in the shower, so Jaus simply took a finger and ran it through the trace of blood, then sucked it into his mouth. His expression was intent as he considered the taste, looking like one of those elderly gentlemen on the Discovery Channel at an Italian vineyard doing a wine sampling. He swirled the blood around in his mouth like it was vintage port, swishing it this way and that, before alarmingly heading for the sink to spit it out. His face had creased into a scowl. "I'm sorry baby, but Logan was right. I don't know what they've been doing to you, but ummm . . . that's some nasty stuff."

"I'm not your fucking baby," Grace hissed, "and just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Meaning I have no idea, but your blood's definitely tainted. I don't know what fairy blood tastes like, but I've heard, and that's definitely not it," he said, pausing to think. "But they gave you elf blood after your attack, so maybe that's the difference . . . might just be that elf blood's nasty."

Jaus didn't mean that as an insult, but Glorfindel bristled. "The blood of an elf is some of the finest immortal blood in existence! How dare you say such a thing," he snapped.

"Well, I'll only know if I get to taste some. You willing?" Jaus countered quickly. He'd been more than ready to flirt with Glorfindel earlier, but that time was long over. His brother was seriously ill, and that creature was serious as a stone.

Without hesitation, Glorfindel walked across that kitchen while drawing his blade. He stopped a foot short of Jaus, and deftly nicked a fingertip, extending it. "Taste," he commanded.

Jaus took hold of Glorfindel's finger and before that elf could think to object, he put it in his mouth and sucked that blood off. Glorfindel turned red as a rose, while poor Logan just stared in amazement. He'd finally managed to pick his head up out of that sink, but he so did not need to see that. Closing his eyes, he just dropped it back in. He had no desire to watch his historically horny brother get trounced on by that hulking elf warrior, especially after the night he was having.

Thankfully, that horny brother was not interested in playing any more games – at least not for the moment - although he did savor that elf blood until it honestly seemed his eyes would roll back in his head. "God damn that's fantastic!" Jaus blurted out, incapable of keeping his fangs from extending.

"Meaning what?" Grace exclaimed.

The fear in her voice brought Jaus right out of his personal revelry. "You want it straight up?" he asked hesitantly, giving Grace a frighteningly sad look. That look told Grace his news was not going to be well received, and she was very thankful when Glorfindel returned to her side.

"I'm sorry Grace. I'm no hematology expert, but I've tasted plenty of blood in the past five hundred years or so, and there's definitely something very wrong with yours," Jaus told her with a definite sound of regret. "It doesn't taste like anything human, fairy or elf. Like Logan said, it just tastes bad - almost like it's dead. I know you probably can't understand that - and I wish I knew a better way to explain it - but it almost makes me wonder if you've got a different problem than you think you do."

Jaus was frowning terribly by the time he stopped talking, and all the color had drained from Grace's face. She might have one of the best tans imaginable, but at that moment, she was as pale as the cabinets around her. Glorfindel didn't look much better than Grace did, and Jaus wondered what on earth could be done. "There any way your people can check her blood?" he asked Glorfindel. "Figure out what's going on?"

Glorfindel didn't answer. He just looked down at Grace. He was not present for the conversations after she was originally attacked and brought to Rivendell, but he'd gotten the information over time. There was no precedent for giving elf blood to a human who had been attacked by a vampire. No one knew what the effects could be over the long term, and the golden warrior was beginning to wonder if in everyone's frantic efforts to save Grace's life, they might actually have been inadvertently damaging it – or even ending it.

His expression belied his emotions, and Grace knew that Glorfindel agreed with Jaus. Something terrible was wrong with her. She didn't say a word, just grabbed her cigarettes and went out on the balcony. She couldn't stand being in that room another second.

"Will she be alright?" Jaus asked in a hushed tone.

"Worry not, I shall get to the bottom of this," Glorfindel answered firmly, "now what of Logan?"

"I'm not sure," Jaus answered honestly, looked back to his pitifully ill brother still hunched over the side of that sink. He instinctively went to grab a few handfuls of towels from the pantry and began to throw them on the floor to cover up the blood pools, all the while casting concerned glances that way. Jaus had not seen Logan in many years, and he was thrilled to have his little brother back with him - even under such strange circumstances. He could not bear the thought of something happening to him.

His concern was so blatantly obvious, that it eventually prompted Glorfindel to intercede. The golden warrior did not have family, nor could he read a vampire's thoughts, but it did not take telepathy or blood relations to know the creature was terribly concerned and desperate for a solution. Walking over to the sink, he placed a comforting hand on Logan's shoulder. "Take from me, see if it will ease you," he said firmly, drawing two stunned green eyed stares. Jaus dropped the entire stack of towels he was holding, while Logan could do little more than rest his head on that cool granite counter and pray for relief from any source.

"You serious?" Jaus asked, not believing Glorfindel would even remotely consider such a thing after watching Grace's little exhibition earlier.

"Mae, yes I am," Glorfindel answered firmly, pushing up the sleeve of his top. "I do not intend to offer my neck, as I do not wish it nuzzled or licked, but if my arm is suitable your brother may take from me."

Towels forgotten, Jaus immediately came over to help, working with Glorfindel to get Logan upright. The sickened vampire was weak and nearly delirious, unable to even force his fangs or mouth to work properly. Frustrated, Jaus took Glorfindel's wrist into his own mouth, carefully piercing the elf's flesh with his own fangs, then offering it to his brother, pressing the bleeding wound into Logan's mouth. It took a moment for the taste of the elf blood to permeate his dulled senses, but Logan finally managed to respond, sucking the blood from Glorfindel's arm.

Thankfully, the golden warrior did not have the same response to Logan feeding that Grace did. He remained carefully aloof during the entire process, although he was obviously pleased when Logan began to stir. Losing a little blood was nothing to that hulking elven warrior – not after some of the massive injuries he had sustained in battle - so he quite patiently stood there, allowing Logan to take his fill.

Just as it had before, it did not take long for the strength of that immortal blood to seep through Logan's veins, and soon he was feeling much better – actually, downright terrific – but he worried that there would be more negative side effects. Even after he had passed a quick tongue over Glorfindel's wrist to close the wounds and retreated to the window to watch Grace, Logan was apprehensive, just waiting for the nausea and ill feelings to return. They never did, and soon enough, those three men noted the obvious. There was a horrible problem with Grace's blood.

Jaus and Logan had gone home for the night when Glorfindel made his way to the beach. It was still raining, and the sand sank beneath his weight. The ocean was not a sight that the elven warrior had often seen, and he could not help but admire the raw beauty of it as he sank to sit beside Grace. She was huddled into a little ball, arms gathered tight around her knees, holding them close to her body. Tears mixed with the raindrops against her cheeks, and her hair hung in little damp waves around her forehead.

"We match," Glorfindel said, offering his wrist for her to see. She was surprised, but said nothing.

They sat together for the longest time - two very different creatures from two very different worlds sitting in wet sand - friends watching the waves roll against the sand as it rained. Grace was struggling to make sense of everything that had gone on that day, and even with that blocking ring on her finger, Glorfindel knew it.

Grace hated the fact that Sookie suffered without their bond, and that she and Eric were fighting since she had left. She hated the fact that she caused Logan to get hurt. She hated the fact that in her efforts to save her friend, she had hurt him instead. She hated the way she had lost her temper and gone after Nuada earlier, and she knew how terribly she must have hurt him with the things she said before leaving. She hated the disappointment in her great-grandfather's eyes when he looked at her, and she wondered even if she did complete that ritual if it would ever go away. It seemed that no matter what Grace tried to do, she hurt the people she cared about, and she wanted it to end – Grace needed it to end.

"Am I going to die?" she asked in little more than a whisper.

Deep grey eyes the color of a summer thunderstorm cloud narrowed slightly at her question, a handsome face losing the contentment it had gained from the sound of the ocean, thick blond brows marred by a scar Grace had offered to remove knitting in thought. His voice was as gentle as that misty rain falling on the sand around them, as soothing as the warm salt breeze drifting through his hair as he spoke, and his words were true because elves did not lie.

"I do not know, Pinilyaer, I do not know."


	45. Determination and Information

Chapter 45 – Determination and Information

The silence that fell after Grace and Glorfindel disappeared from that LA office was thick and heavy, seeping from the shadows to chew on their flesh and tear at their lungs. Niall and Elrond were stunned, but the very air refused to give Nuada breath, scolding him, mocking him that he had once again been unable to prevent Grace from leaving. He had failed yet again. The woman he loved was gone, and the knowledge was more than his fragmented emotional state could withstand. He imploded under the weight of it, diffusing into an alternate state of being, his very soul determined to wring its pain from the very molecules around him.

The room quickly filled with an ethereal glow, hot clouds of red and white boiling against one another as Niall rushed to his side, using the power of the fairy fire he possessed to draw Nuada back, forcing him to return and calm himself. "I shall have Savan sedate you if need be," Niall threatened, but it was done gently. He knew what it was like to lose the one who possessed your heart, and it was not a feeling he wished upon any other. "You force her away from you, Nuada," he scolded. "Grace responds only to kindness. You know this! Never tell that child what you intend her to do. The decision must always appear to be her own, even if it is not in reality. She is frightened and possibly injured, yet she agreed to speak with us and you refused to listen . . . you tried to force her to your will and you made the situation worse! It is no wonder the two of you share such deep feelings for one another . . . you are so different, yet you are so very much alike at the same time! You are both stubborn and completely determined to have your own will win out."

"I have been beaten . . . I have been tortured and burned, but I have never known such pain as that of Erulissë leaving me," Nuada answered in a haunted tone, as he began to aimlessly pace the room. "My very soul weeps, and now to hear the things she just spat at me . . . to know that she shares her blood willingly with a vampire, while I have been left to grieve in solitude without the warmth of our bond . . . I do not know what else to do! If this is what the emotion known as love is made of, I wish it on no one . . . I suffer without her presence to comfort me . . . I hurt in ways I cannot begin to explain, and I must find relief. I cannot bear to exist without A'maelamin Erulissë . . . I love her, and I want nothing more than for her to return to me . . . to love me the same as I love her . . . for her to join with me . . . to stay by my side for all eternity!"

Niall could not honestly say that he had ever seen Nuada in such condition, and he struggled to comfort him. "Rest easy, Nuada. I know in my heart that Grace loves you every bit the same as you love her, and I have no doubts that you shall find your relief in her return . . . but I fear you will have to earn it. Grace has made it very clear that she is not going to allow it to be forced upon her - now answer my question – can you contain yourself if we convince her to return and speak with us? Or must I meet with her alone and ban you?" Niall's piercing sea green eyes were studying Nuada closely, searching for any hint of a lie in his answer. Nuada was indeed a professional liar by trade, and an extraordinarily proficient one at that. Niall needed to know his answer was true – he would not allow even him to endanger Grace's ultimate return.

"I will do anything necessary to see Erulissë again," Nuada finally answered, quickly retreating to the wet bar. He had sworn it away, but that personal promise was broken as he began gulping Crown Royal, not even feeling the burn of his throat as Niall began sending out silent mental pleas for Glorfindel and Grace to return.

Glorfindel did not reciprocate communication from Niall, but thankfully, Elrond was able to contact his elven warrior. The elf was unmoved by his pleas - feeling it was much more important for Grace to calm herself after that horrible scene with Logan, than to be returned to LA and possibly embroiled in another fight with Nuada - so several hours passed before Glorfindel took Grace's hand and eased her from the sand. He did not tell her where they were going when he did, and Grace seemed to be genuinely stunned when she suddenly found herself back in that LA office. The immediate scowl that creased her face hinted that she would readily continue where she left off, but the others were determined that was not what would happen here.

Intent that no more harsh words would be exchanged, Niall, Nuada and Elrond were now seated at the far end of the conference room table, and Elrond came to his feet when they appeared. He extended his most polite elven greeting, nodding his head to Grace with a hand over his heart before graciously beckoning her to join them. "Would you please sit child and speak with us . . . no one here means you any harm. We wish only to talk."

Grace looked around uncertainly, then reluctantly slid into a chair at the opposite end of the table, as everyone stared. Nuada had gone pale at the renewed sight of those punctures in her neck, while Lord Elrond grimaced as he took a closer look at her now damp and sandy body. The healer was markedly alarmed by her appearance, wondering if Grace had eaten a single mouthful of food since leaving she was so thin. "Grace, you do not look well and you have been bitten by a night walker again. Saes, would you like me to take a look at the wound?"

"No, I wouldn't," Grace murmured dismissively, causing Elrond to frown deeply, dark brows knitting in frustration. The human girl had always trusted him, and he did not want to think that after the scene at Imladris, that trust had been lost. Unfortunately, to a great degree that horrible night had indeed compromised Grace's trust in everyone at that table except Glorfindel, and that point was proved in dramatic fashion when the door behind her opened.

A member of Nuada's elite twelve member team overseeing the search for Grace had just chosen the worst possible moment to enter that conference room. Armed with a handful of paperwork, he intended to deliver it to Nuada and update his superior on the status of Grace's e-mails, but that fairy never anticipated finding a meeting in process on the other side of that door – nor did he dream that one of the members of that meeting was the very human target of their search. He also never anticipated that human target turning the tables on him - because Grace turned him into a target instead.

Assuming Niall had called for guardians to forcibly subdue her in Nuada's place, Grace flipped around in her chair, taking hold of that creature and freezing him right where he stood. Everyone wondered what she intended to do to him, and Glorfindel was already coming out of his chair when Grace quickly slid out of hers, crossing the few feet that separated them and crawling right into that guardian's face. "Something I can help you with?" she seethed, pure venom in every syllable.

The guardian's stunned amazement shown clearly on his face, but that guardian didn't intend to say one word – not until unbeknownst to Grace, Nuada ever so subtly nodded his head, silently telling him to speak. "Might you be the Lady Grace?" he asked in a strange voice, somewhat surprised that his mouth worked, since the rest of his body felt frozen almost as if encased in a block of ice.

His black eyes were running over her wildly, and Grace was returning the visual inspection, taking a very close look at him herself. She'd never seen a fairy guardian up close except in Crash Mansion that night, and her attention had obviously been on something else. "Last time I checked that was me . . . now why are you in this room?" she demanded coldly, slowly circling him with her hands on her hips. "And if you lie, you die."

"Pinilyaer, for shame!" Glorfindel hissed behind her. "Do not start this again, or I will throttle you myself!"

"I haven't hurt him . . . I only asked him a question," Grace answered, coming to a halt in front of him yet again. "I wanna know why he's here." The guardian was still looking at her with unrestrained curiosity, and his face visibly tensed when she reached up and flipped his hair back so she could take a closer look at his ears. They were pointed, and while his clothes were not nearly so elaborate as Nuada's warrior clothing, they were completely black, leather and ornate. He certainly looked like both a warrior and a guardian . . . scary and intimidating . . . but Grace wasn't the least bit afraid of his ass.

Glorfindel cleared his throat pointedly, determined to help Grace hold on to that thread of civility she was managing at the moment. "The Pinilyaer asked you a question, mellon nín."

The guardian's eyes shifted from Glorfindel, to Nuada then to back Grace, and when the guardian answered, his voice was a strange mix of curiosity and odd admiration. "The papers are for _Muinë heru,_ Nuada."

"Well isn't that fucking sweet," Grace said sarcastically, snatching them from his hand. "Allow me."

She glanced over them, intending to tear them up and throw them on the floor, but when she saw what they were, she felt entirely differently. They were e-mail printouts . . . _her e-mail_ . . . and the top one was her anxiously awaited reply from Amelia in New Orleans. Grace skimmed enough to absorb " _spell's unbelievable . . . here's a few suggestions for using it"_ before she fried those papers to ash. After seeing that spell put on a vampire's dick, she couldn't wait to see what that witch suggested doing with it, but that would have to come later . . . as for now . . .

"You're downloading my freaking emails?" Grace growled under her breath. "What the hell else are you doing?"

His pale blonde eyebrows went up, but that guardian was getting no resistance from Nuada as to answering her, so he did. "Yes My Lady," he said, attempting to bow his head to her, "my apologies if I have offended you with my presence, but it is my duty to monitor your computer transactions in an attempt to secure your safe return."

"Why are you doing that?" Grace snapped, waving her fingers under his chin. "That noddy thing with your head . . ."

The guardian looked horrified, and his voice was little more than a whisper when he answered again. "My Lady . . . you are fairy royalty . . . a descendant of Lord Niall himself. If you would release me, I would bow to you properly as is fairy custom. I am doing the best possible, given my current . . . position."

WTF? Grace looked at that creature like he was insane, but he was just as serious as he could be, and now Grace was the horrified one. "I'm a plain damn human, so don't you ever bow to me again," Grace said in an aggravated tone, releasing him. "And don't read any more of my freaking e-mails either . . . now get out, and do _not_ come back."

"Yes My Lady," he said obediently, bowing to Grace anyway, then quickly fleeing the room. The door swung shut behind him, leaving Grace stunned where she stood, staring blankly at the slabs of wood.

"Pinilyaer?" Glorfindel called softly, but he was getting no response. Grace was saying nothing. She was just standing there is some state of shock, rooted to the spot, and after trying again and again, he finally just took Grace by the arm, leading her back to her chair.

She sank into it with her eyes glued to the floor, and Glorfindel wondered if the culmination of the night's events had succeeded in finally overwhelming her completely. "Pinilyaer, speak to me . . . what is wrong?" he insisted gently, but Grace only looked at him blankly, so his next statement was addressed to Lord Elrond. "I fear it was a mistake to return here – Grace has been subjected to too much this night . . . There was a terrible scene after we left this place earlier with the vampire she shared blood with. It appears that her blood poisoned the creature . . . he nearly passed on because of it . . ."

Shocked by that unexpected revelation, Nuada actually choked on the Crown Royal he had just taken a huge swallow of, drawing concerned glances as he coughed and fought for composure. Niall went pale as a ghost, but Elrond managed to remain steady. "Glorfindel, explain yourself at once!" he demanded. The golden warrior reciprocated with an instant mental infusion of the night's happenings, every second of memories he shared drawing a little more color from the powerful trio, and Elrond had no more color than Niall by the time he had finished. "Grace, child allow me to examine you please," the elf lord pleaded insistently.

"No," Grace breathed out softly.

"Little One, saes, please allow Elrond to see about your health," Glorfindel added gently, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "I know you fear for your life . . . you said so yourself."

Elrond passed Glorfindel a terribly concerned look, as the elf yet again shared his memories. The Master of Rivendell was stunned. "Grace, child is this true?" he asked sympathetically. "Please, speak to me. Do you honestly believe your life is in danger?"

"Yes, I do," Grace answered quite matter-of-factly, the shattered expression on her face when she turned to face him clearly showing that she was not kidding in any way. "Didn't you realize a paltry little human is worthless to your brother? I'm nothing but a disgusting mortal who isn't worth the air I breathe, even in the eyes of their own great-grandfather . . . which is obviously why he's decided to destroy me, because every time Nuada drags me to Facility Four and they shove that miserable burning blue light into me, they kill another piece of me – they turn another piece of the human I am into the thing he wants me to be."

Her words shook Elrond to his very core, and his voice was plagued with concern when he spoke in reply. "Grace, saes I beg you listen to me child. I sympathize with your plight, and while I cannot personally relate to the difficult things you have faced at Facility Four, I know in my heart that no one is attempting to harm you or end your life, least of all my brother or Nuada! Surely, you cannot believe your words to be fact."

Grace got visibly angrier at his words, lighting a cigarette with a flaming fingertip. She took a deep drag from it, then blew the smoke through her nose as she answered. "Do you think just because what Niall's doing to me is being done a little at a time instead of all at once, it makes things any different in the end?" she said, with raw pain bleeding from her voice. "Unless I've completely misunderstood what's been said to me, if your brother gets his way, when it's all said and done, there won't be one shred of humanity left in me anymore. I'll be nothing more than some fucked up fairy experiment. And then what? I run off into the sunset to live happily ever after? Or I get put in a jar somewhere for those freaks at Facility Four to stare at? Or better yet, maybe they'll just lock me in that cell like they did Nuada . . ," she paused as her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears at the memories of that day, "but then I bet if Nuada manages to get me locked in that cell and turned into a fairy for him, he'll get a fucking Ferrari."

Her voice had grown colder with every word, sending pure chills down every spine in that room. Grace was smoking a cigarette with wild abandon, while everyone tried to comprehend what she just said. They were all stunned to hear her first hand account of the way she negatively interpreted her situation, yet her comments explained a great deal – like why Grace ran away from them - and why she was now in hiding.

Nuada was nursing that glass of Crown Royal like it was going to save him, a broken heart wishing the heat in his throat could soothe the growing coldness in his soul. He wished more than anything ever, that the horrible day they shared at Facility Four could be erased from both their memories while Niall had gone so pale as to be nearly translucent. He knew Grace was upset after finding out what had been taking place, but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that a descendant of his own flesh and blood would consider that he was actually trying to harm her . . . kill her no less. It was unfathomable, heartbreaking, and nearly more than that already devastated fairy could take at the moment.

His hand was instinctively clutched over his heart when he spoke, sea green eyes glistening with unshed tears at the knowledge that his own orders bringing about that fiasco at Facility Four were what prompted all of these actions from Grace. Just as Nuada had told him so very many times, he was indeed personally responsible for this – and he did not know how to make amends. "Grace, please child look at me . . . listen to what I have to say," he begged. "No one is trying to kill or harm you in any way, and I cannot believe that you would think such a thing of me."

Thunder rolled in the distance as Grace shifted eyes dark with anger and mistrust to her great-grandfather. She looked like she wanted to spit in his face . . . and she did. "Then what do you call what you're having done to me?" she demanded, snorting more cigarette smoke viciously through her nostrils. "Did you just see what I did in this office earlier, or do you wanna call that guardian back in here so I can crush him to death while you watch? I deserve better than to be trapped into this fucked up life as the freak of nature you've turned me into. I should have been told what you wanted to do, before you just up and started doing it! Whether or not to take part in your damn ritual – transfer – whatever the hell you want to call it, should have been my choice, not yours! You had no right to lie to me, sneak me out of my bed at night and haul me off to that place, and fuck with my body and my mind!"

Niall visibly tensed at her words, but forced himself to remain steady. He would accomplish nothing by responding to her temper with his own, and he would not allow himself to be baited as Nuada had done. "I have done nothing but try to extend your life so you could enjoy the magnificent things that the life of a fairy can bring to you. What do you expect of me, Grace? For a powerful ruler, an immortal creature who stands lord over an entire race to simply stand idly by and watch his great-grandchild suffer even more than she already has? My heart broke for you after that accident, I suffered for you at seeing your broken body after that vampire tore into your flesh . . . I simply cannot bear to see one of my very own blood suffer or die needlessly when I possess the power to help them live for hundreds of years in perfect health and happiness as one of my kind. I simply will not accept that fate for you . . . I refuse!"

"But what you're doing to me makes me suffer!" Grace growled back at him, bristling as she passed him a look that could only be described as poisonous. She was ready to break out into an all out screaming tirade, but she swallowed it when Nuada got out of his chair. Silently, she finished her cigarette and lit another one, her eyes never leaving that mercenary as he crossed the room, refilled his glass with brown liquor, fixed her a glass of Smirnoff then returned to the table with them both.

Nuada knew she would not take kindly to him handing it to her, so he simply placed it on the table when he slid back into his chair and nudged it in her direction. It was a peace offering of sorts, and one that Grace accepted, effortlessly sliding that glass across the table and putting it in her hand. She took a swig before she spoke again.

"Well, before you force me to live all these hundreds of years as a fairy, you might want to consider taking the time to explain to me exactly what a fairy IS, because I honestly don't know," Grace told Niall in her most sarcastic tone. "From what I've seen, at least the elves are halfway normal - they eat, they sleep, they have houses and rose gardens, but you . . . what do you do all day? I've never seen your world, I don't know where you go when you disappear, you've never told me one thing about yourself or where you come from. The only things I've seen from your world is that hell you call Facility Four, and the grandfather who tried to kill me, so what in God's name could possibly make me want to be part of that?"

Niall frowned desperately - he had no idea Grace contemplated such things – but Elrond had quite a different reaction. A quite unexpected one. To everyone's complete stunned amazement, that elf lord started laughing. Elrond laughed until pure water flowed from his eyes, and it was all at his brother's expense. "Oh Grace," he exclaimed, "you are truly a precious little thing! The elves are the normal ones! Oh child, you have no idea just how very normal we are compared to the oddities that exist in my brother's world!"

Niall passed his brother a scathing look, although it did nothing to appease Elrond's humor, and before he was finished laughing, even Nuada and Glorfindel had managed slight smiles. Humans had such an odd way of looking at things, but Niall was not finding the humor in it at that particular moment, and he continued to pass warning looks to his little brother when he spoke. "If you have wrestled with such questions child, why have you not asked them before now?" Niall asked seriously.

"Because you wouldn't have answered me." Grace said, genuinely surprising him. "Did you know that Sookie and I have spent hours talking about this? Or that she's asked Claudine a thousand questions, and never gotten a single answer? You've never said a word about who or what you really are to either one of us, and anything we did ask, just got smoothed over and completely ignored. Look around this office . . . have I ever seen this office before tonight? No, but it's the headquarters of your businesses and it's where Nuada works. Did either one of you show it to me? No. And do you know how I found out where it was? I looked it up on the freaking internet . . . I've been forced to learn about my family and the fey creatures I'm supposed to be related to from mythology on my laptop . . . now am I the only one who thinks that's pitiful? Or do you honestly think ignoring my questions and hiding things from me warms my soul, and makes me want to cooperate with you?"

That earned Niall a very pointed look from Nuada – a "gee you should take your own advice" stare that was well deserved, while Niall passed him one right back – the "why the hell didn't you bring Grace to Los Angeles and show her around" glare. They were even, and both looked suitably embarrassed as they looked back down the table toward Grace. Nuada wisely kept his mouth closed, letting Niall speak. "Grace, child I fear I then owe you an apology. I did not realize that either you or Sookie were genuinely interested in knowing more of my world. I must admit it does please me very much to hear you say such a thing, and while I fear a visit to Tír na nÓg is still not possible, I will gladly share with you as much as I possibly can . . . would that make you happy Grace? Would you be more comfortable and willing to listen, if you knew more of me and your family?

Grace looked at Niall oddly. She did not know what would make her happy or comfortable after everything she had been through, and suddenly being offered limitless knowledge of her great-grandfather and his people caught her completely off guard. It was the very first time anyone had offered such a thing since she was picked up out of the gravel behind Fangtasia, and while there seemed to be ten thousand questions she wanted answers to, her mind was a complete blank.

"What is it that you want, child? Tell us, and I swear to the Valar we shall all listen." Elrond prodded in a soothing tone.

Grace frowned desperately, and her confusion manifested on her face as she fought to form an answer. Soon, she was throwing tiny little blue arcs into the air surrounding her, making it glaring obvious that she was no more in control of her emotions or her powers than she was on the terrace of Imladris a little short of two weeks prior. It forced the men at that table to face the harsh reality that her last visit to Facility Four had pushed Grace across a very delicate threshold, but it also gave Niall a most interesting idea.

Smiling at her kindly, Niall disappeared from his chair, suddenly reappearing in the center of the room . . . but looking oh so very much different. Grace's mouth fell open, and even Glorfindel's eyes got big at the sight of that Fairy Lord, and there was indeed no doubt at that moment that Niall Brigant was every inch fairy royalty. Gone was the dark business suit, replaced with flowing robes of silver gossamer, glittering with diamonds and woven with what appeared to be strands of pure gold. His sunlit hair glowed with a luminescence that could only be described as heavenly, while that gleaming crystal crown on his head was the most fascinatingly beautiful creation human eyes had ever seen. Every inch of his flesh and clothing radiated a beautiful soft light, tiny little rainbows throwing themselves from his very flesh with wild abandon.

"Would it make you more comfortable if I were doing the same things as you . . . if we were throwing light into the air together?" Niall asked almost teasingly, his voice gentle like the rain, musical, almost as if it had captured the very sounds of nature and played them as he spoke. "See Grace, you are not alone child. You are one of my kind – there is no denying it . . . now tell me little one, is this more what you and Sookie secretly believe I should look like?"

Grace could do little more than nod in sheer amazement, positive if Sookie had been there, she would've fainted. Her hand had instinctively gone to her gaping mouth, while her eyes could not seem to take it all in. Grace thought Haldir of Lórien looked like an angel when she first laid eyes on him, but her silver haired elf friend didn't hold a candle to Niall Brigant, because that fairy lord looked like he'd just descended from heaven itself. Lord Niall was bewitching he was so beautiful, and Grace now understood perfectly how Dermot and Fintan had been able to seduce human women so easily . . . it was impossible not to be enthralled by such powerful supernatural glamour and allure.

To her surprise, Niall disappeared again, reappearing back in his chair just as he was before, that dark suit returned in all its perfectly tailored glory. He winked at Grace, and she couldn't help but offer a tiny incredulous smile in return. "You have to promise to do that for Sookie," she murmured, still shocked by what she had seen.

"I promise to do it for the two of you together, when you return home," he said gently, returning them instantly to the problem at hand.

Grace immediately stiffened, finding a large comforting hand placed on her arm. "Pinilyaer, this is why we came – remember?" Glorfindel prodded gently. "We have come so you might tell us what it is you require so things may be repaired between everyone - so you will return home."

Suddenly the pleasantness of seeing her beautiful fairy great-grandfather was erased, replaced by the same bone numbing desperation that had eaten at her since she went off that terrace. Grace looked around that conference room, taking in the obnoxious furniture, the sculpted carpets, the elaborate antique Tiffany lighting; all things bought by her great-grandfather's money, possessions that he owned. Did Niall consider her to be one of them?

She looked at the hulking creature sitting beside her, taking in his pointed ears, the genuine sword hanging at his side, knowing that he had lived longer than her mind could even comprehend – _could her mind even begin to comprehend living for a length of time that would span centuries?_ She looked at the lightning popping against the night sky outside, knowing that was able to draw the very electricity from the air – _how in the world could she possess such an ability, and would she ever be able to control or stop it?_ She looked out the windows at the lights of Los Angeles, knowing that somewhere out there was Nuada's home. Not a luxury apartment in Shreveport he had been forced to share with her, but his actual home, a place he had never once thought to show to her – _could that creature honestly love her if he chose not to share this part of his life with her, and share his physical pleasures with another female?_

Grace's hands trembled as they made their way to her suddenly pounding temples. She had agreed to come to this meeting because she desperately wanted things to change, yet she honestly did not know how to articulate the rampant thoughts and emotions that ate at her, or negotiate with these creatures. She only knew the pain she felt, the betrayal, the anger. It had worn her down, until her very soul felt weary. She wanted it all to stop.

"I don't want to be this ugly, twisted thing that I've turned into. I want to be normal again - a plain simple human girl laying on the beach in South Carolina," she finally answered in little more than a hoarse whisper.

"Normal is nothing more than an ignorant English word that holds no true meaning or value," Niall interjected gently, "and do not disillusion yourself to believe that you have ever been a plain human girl simply laying on a beach. You have not been a mere human from the day of your birth, and I simply must insist you to rid yourself of this distaste you feel toward the great power you possess. I suffer to hear this from both you and Sookie . . . why me? . . . why must I be different from the other humans? Your abilities are not a curse child, and neither are hers! They are a beautiful gift, marvelous proof that you are above the status of a simple human creature. There is true value in your existence, and you are very important, Grace. You need to fully accept who and what you are . . . yes, you have chosen to take your power and manifest it this night and throw things at Nuada in anger, but have you not taken that same power and healed him by your own hand, making him whole again! Can you honestly tell any of us, that you do not wish to possess such a gift?"

"But I can't control it!" Grace nearly sobbed in return. "There's no control, no stability. I'm like a tornado, wandering with no path. I can't stay this way. I'm gonna end up killing somebody! I've gone after Haldir and his brothers, I've gone after guardians, I almost killed Nuada before I left . . ." her voice broke, one trembling hand dropping to clamp over her mouth, while the other instinctively went to her neck, frantically searching for the pendant that was no longer there. It was followed by a groping search of her ears, Grace needing to feel those emeralds that always told her Nuada cared for her, but again there was nothing – nothing to tell her that things were going to be ok – and Niall's next revelation was going to prove that indeed things were not ok.

"Child, we have come together this night to speak openly with one another, and I am most grateful for your willingness to be here. I know that my words were ill received on the terrace of my brother's home, and I will apologize to you now for the misfortune of my actions. I have made terrible choices, and for that I will be eternally repentant, but I fear the transfer of your grandfather's life force to you has simply come too far. Whether you object to it or not, there is simply no choice now but to complete it."

"I don't believe that," Grace murmured almost to herself. Closing her eyes, she could feel the anger building in her like an angry swarm of bees fighting for a way out. Niall was telling her nothing different than he had before – she would be forced to complete that ritual. It was simply being said more politely this time, yet the message was the same. He would turn her into a fairy, and there was not a damn thing she could do about it.

When her eyes opened again, they were darker than death, a poignant symbol of the life she felt being torn from her very soul by that creature sitting several yards from her. The very air around her vibrated she was so incensed, and when Grace jerked that cigarette out of her mouth to speak, she didn't speak – she screamed - that soft southern drawl anything but as it tore from her lungs and threw itself from her lips to flaunt its message in their face. "I don't know what you've been doing all these thousands of years you've been alive, but in case you haven't noticed, we humans don't take too kindly to being killed or turned into something we don't want to be! If you think you're going to drag me back to that intolerable place and finish turning me into your damn science fair project, you've got another thing coming. I don't give a shit if I have to eat a god damned car to put enough iron in my body to stop you, by god bet your life I will because you will never, and I mean never take me to that fucking place again!"

"Erulissë, calm down and listen to me," Nuada interrupted forcefully, praying he could interject a soothing voice of reasoning here. "As I have told you again and again, things are not the way you perceive them to be . . . no one is attempting to harm you, and Niall speaks the truth – the transfer has come too far not to be completed. And you speak the truth as well - you cannot stay the way you are. It is dangerous to your health and to everyone around you, but I promise things will be so very different for you when it is over! You will feel better - you will be able to control your powers exactly as you wish. I swear I will help you . . . I will teach you. You simply must give us the chance to make this right."

"Shut the fuck up," Grace snarled. "I don't have to give you the chance to make anything right!"

"Pinilyaer, saes please, you promised to remain calm and listen if I brought you to this place," Glorfindel scolded, determined to prevent Grace and Nuada from going at each other again. "While I cannot argue that what has been done to you was wrong, I fear I must agree with them on some points. I have seen you do magnificent things. I have even been healed by your very own hands, and I do not believe that the power within you is ugly or twisted as you say it is. Surely there must be some way to compromise and settle these things."

Grace passed a scathing look over Glorfindel then turned her attentions completely to Elrond. The elf lord was a powerful healer and Niall was his brother. He of all creatures should know about her health and what this ridiculous transfer was doing to her. "Is that true Lord Elrond?" she asked seriously. "Am I so far gone now, that I have no choice but to be turned into this thing that your brother wants me to be? Can I never go back to what I was? And what is wrong with my blood? What made Logan so sick when he fed from me tonight?" Her eyes were luminous, black pools glowing with sapphire flames, imploring his very soul to speak to her. She had always trusted him to tell her the truth, and she prayed he would do it now.

"I know nothing of this problem with your blood that you speak of," Elrond answered honestly, "but as for the transfer, I fear Niall and Nuada may very well be telling you the truth. I will gladly speak to Savan personally if you wish, but to achieve stability I believe that completion will be the only way. I would also remind you, that it is the only way to release yourself from the blood bond you share with Haldir of Lórien . . . something I believe you both have tried to find an avenue to accomplish."

Grace stared at him as the words sank in, then suddenly her expression changed, confusion clouding it. Her mind was working the unseen variables here, and not liking the results. Her voice fell to little more than a harsh whisper when she spoke again. "When you go, I want Glorfindel to go along too . . . I need to know I'm going to be told the truth."

A look of complete disbelief washed over Elrond. He was stunned by the implication of her words – that he might lie to her on behalf of his brother - and he immediately found himself struggling against his own temper. "You think I would deceive you? An elven lord of royal descent?"

His voice was unusually harsh, his anger apparent, and Grace frowned in return, knowing she had crossed a terrible line. Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked back at him. "I'm so sorry Lord Elrond, I promise I've always trusted you to tell me the truth, but the truth is that you're only half elf, and given recent events along with the fact that my life is at stake here, I just can't take anything for granted."

Lord Elrond stiffened at her words. Never before had anyone questioned him as to his mixed originations and their possible effects on his devotion to the laws of living his life as an elf . . . yet suddenly after over six thousand years, a young human girl was . . . and he could not begin to understand her reasoning. What had ever given Grace the idea that any elf – or even a half elf – would lie to her?

Those grey eyes were as dark as tarnished pewter when he replied, his expression almost grim. Now he was the one wanting answers. "If it pleases you, when I speak to Savan I shall take Glorfindel along, but let me make something perfectly clear to you Pinilyaer . . . never has an untruth passed my lips, nor shall it in regards to this situation or any other. Know that I would never lie to you, Grace – not under any circumstances – even when my brother is involved." He paused, considering her just as carefully as she was considering him. "Now, just as I am agreeing to humor you, I expect the same in return. Tell me . . . tell me what causes you to question one of the most basic rules of my existence . . . a law sacred to my land and my people. Why do you believe that even one who is half elf like myself would intentionally deceive you?"

Grace didn't say one word, but she answered him just the same, crossing her arms over her chest and passing a very pointed glare to the other side of that table . . . to Nuada. Her insinuation was obvious, and that blond haired mercenary's teeth clenched at Grace's blatant insult. He fought to retain his composure, but his voice was as sharp as a knife when he spoke. "We are not here to discuss my predisposition for verbal misinformation or my genetic makeup . . . we are here to discuss your future." His words were carefully chosen, but they only served to incense Grace that much further. She looked very much on the verge of an explosion.

"Well, since you seem to be fantasizing about being a part of that future, you might want to reconsider that," she growled out in little more than a whisper, "because I don't need a lesson in genetics to figure out that since elves don't lie, and you are a professional at it, that you are not an elf - or at least you aren't a full blooded one anyway – so if you can lie like that, so can any other half breed who wants to."

She finished by raking her eyes over Nuada like he was the lowest life form on the planet, and he nearly exploded again. There were an extremely limited number of things that Grace could do to truly piss off her guardian, but talking about his parentage definitely made the list, and she was coming dangerously close to crossing a line that no creature wanted to with that man. Nuada might well deserve her ire, but that did not mean he would allow her to stand there, calling him a liar and looking at him like he was a pixie turd either.

"Erulissë, you own my very heart, but I warn you - tread lightly on me this night," Nuada seethed out, fighting for composure. "I have never taken advantage of you, and while I will readily admit I have behaved poorly, it was with valid reason. This is neither the time nor place for such items to be aired, so I will simply choose to remind you that just as you have never asked Niall anything of himself, you have never once asked me a single thing of my history, and I have told you over and over, I would answer any question if you only asked it. The assumptions you have made about me were your own, and they were made with no input from me whatsoever!"

"Oh, bite my ass!" Grace retched out. She had fought desperately to ignore that creature ever since she set foot back in this room, but if Nuada wanted her attention, he certainly had it now and if he wanted to fight, she was more than willing. "I never felt like I needed to ask you anything. I trusted you from the minute you walked across the balcony of Imladris and held your hand out to me! You looked me in my face and you swore on your very life you would never let anyone hurt me . . . and I believed you!" Her voice broke as she finished, her pain so clear it purely radiated from her, waves of anguish rippling through the air of the room, thickening it, clouding it with her misery and betrayal.

"I did not lie to you on that terrace," Nuada answered in a voice as still as death. "My vow was true and remains to this day . . . I would gladly die before I let anything hurt you." His eyes burned as he stared back at her, his entire body rigid with fury. He loved Grace with every fiber of his being, and there was only a single thing he had ever lied to her about – Serena – and while he had indeed done it repeatedly, it was done out of necessity and only with the very best of intentions.

"You know what, you're right," Grace choked out as she fought against the tightness closing her throat. "I guess in some sick way you were telling the truth. You haven't let anyone else hurt me - you've done it all yourself –and you're right, I haven't ever asked where you came from, because it didn't matter to me. I just accepted you for who you were and chose to trust the man in front of me because I thought you were worth it . . . I believed in you, but it was obviously a mistake."

Nuada face went blank as her answer numbed his heart. The pure disdain in her eyes bordered on hatred, and he began to doubt if he could ever repair the things he had done to Grace . . . yet those eyes were still locked on him. Grace had not turned away. She was waiting, almost begging him to say something in return; to provide her with any possible excuse, no matter how ridiculous, for his actions. Her love for him was as palpable as her disappointment, and in the strangest of ways, it was comforting.

"Erulissë, I have offered every apology I possess to you in hopes that you will one day forgive me for the things I have done, but saes, please do not ever say that believing in me was a mistake." His voice was little more than a whisper when he answered, every word filled with undisguised remorse just as his eyes now were. Sookie Stackhouse's words from that front porch were burned into Nuada's brain, and he felt as if Grace had a crowbar slowly prying his still beating heart from his chest. More than anything else, at this point in his existence, he needed to know that Grace still believed.

"Why did you help him?" Grace asked, tears freely slipping down her face. "How could you say you love me after you helped sneak me away while I slept? To let them do those things to me?"

Nuada's face clouded with emotion as he looked at the woman he loved. He might not be able to hear her thoughts, but he did not need to. Grace's sense of betrayal ran so deep raw pain emanated from her very pores. She might hate Niall for what had been done, but she blamed him, and that single bit of knowledge tore through him like the blade of that dagger he dropped . . . it felt as if she'd just shoved it through his chest, but Nuada steeled himself. He loved Grace, and he would answer her. He was going to bare his soul, and for once, he was going to tell her the truth.

"I will answer you honestly, Erulissë," he answered firmly. "In the beginning I did not care. Just as watching over you was my assignment, so taking you to Facility Four was a part of it, then I found I had feelings for you and I resisted . . . I could not bear to think of the pain you felt, even though you could not remember, but now that we have come to this, I find that I am consumed by selfish reasoning. More than anything else I have ever desired, I want to see you complete the ritual because I love you Erulissë . . . I want the words you were forced to say to Thamuz to be true. I want you to be my life mate - I want to claim you as my own for every creature to see. I never want to suffer the pain of your death . . . I want you accept the life essence of your grandfather so you may remain by my side for the rest of my days."

Nuada's final words were just passing his lips when the glass slid from Grace's hand, dumping vodka into her lap as it bounced to the floor with a dull thud. That hand then flew to her mouth in shock because Grace could not believe what Nuada just said to her . . . and neither could anyone else in that room. They were all staring at him in some state of stunned disbelief, but remarkably, Nuada did not care.

The red had now faded from those startling emerald green eyes, and they were locked on Grace at the other end of that table. They seemed tortured, showing everyone how his soul bled from the pain he had caused her, begging her for forgiveness and understanding. "Erulissë, forgive me," he pleaded softly. "Just say the word and we will leave this place . . . we will go away just as you have always wanted . . . and we will face these things together. Nothing will ever harm you again, I swear it, and when the time comes I will be there to help you. Just saes, please trust me again. Tell me that you still believe, melethril nín . . . tell me that I have not lost you."

Every ounce of color drained out of Grace's face as she sat there, and everyone wondered what she would do. They all wanted her to go with Nuada – even Glorfindel did – and Niall spoke to her softly, encouraging her. "Go with him, child. If you chose to despise me, then I shall accept my fate, but do not hold my actions against the one who loves you. If you will not accept help with these things from me, then please accept it from him. Trust Nuada to help you through this time."

"How am I supposed to trust you when I just got told earlier tonight that my blood is poisoned?" Grace whispered, sliding from her chair. She was shaking like a leaf, and she immediately retreated to the farthest corner of the room, standing with her face pressed to the glass, praying that the coolness would help to calm her. She closed her eyes, letting that strange feeling remind her of the first days when she'd come to Shreveport from Rivendell . . . all the hours she sat in the bedroom of that luxury apartment trying to convince herself what she'd been through was real . . . then again, the morning she left that apartment to go to her own house and her own life, as she stood there trying to force herself to walk out of that bedroom and leave Nuada . . . It seemed only bad things came with the feeling of cold glass pressed to her face, and this time was no different . . . Could she trust Nuada after everything he had done? Could she believe in him? Or was she going to walk away from him again?

Her eyes were still closed when that deliciously familiar scent of leather and spice came creeping up her nose, telling her that Nuada was behind her. She did not hear him approach, because at that conference table, all hell had broken loose between the others – Glorfindel had laid into Niall with wild abandon, demanding to know what was wrong with her, and Elrond was trying to both referee and determine the same thing. Niall was giving up nothing, and their voices were echoing against the glass, wild ranting in elf speak and fairy language growing louder by the moment. It made her head hurt that much worse, reminding her of the terrible fight she's listened to on the terrace of Imladris . . . and reminding her why she was in hiding.

When Nuada spoke, his voice was as soft as the fingertip he gently ran across the fang marks in her neck. "Erulissë . . . did you allow Logan to bite you in an attempt to hurt me?" he asked in little more than a painful whisper.

"No," she answered, keeping her eyes closed. "I did it to save my friend." Grace knew blue flames had just erupted under her flesh because Nuada had touched her – she knew if looked into that glass she would see his reflection there – and she wondered how she would ever get through this without losing her mind. Her hand had instinctively gone to her throat and her ears yet again, searching for the comforting pieces of jewelry that were no longer there, and her actions did not go unnoticed – nor had they gone unnoticed the first time.

"Erulissë, would you like for me to retrieve your earrings for you?" Nuada breathed out softly behind her. "It would honor me if you would accept their return."

Grace didn't answer. Her throat felt so tight she wondered if she could have answered him even if she'd tried. Her mind was filled with memories of Christmas morning . . . how enthralled he had been with that completed puzzle box . . . how excited she'd been when she went to him . . . how happy they had both been.

Nuada's mind was obviously on the very same things, as proven when he spoke. "I will gladly bring your puzzle box as well. It might offer you some comfort, and I have many others. You are welcome to them all if you wish . . . saes, please Erulissë, tell me something I might do to help ease this burden you are being forced to bear."

Again, Grace did not answer, and Nuada eased a step closer. He now stood so close his clothes brushed against her back and he could smell the salt air clinging to her skin. "Has the ocean soothed you as it used to, Lirimaer?" he asked softly. "If you wished for the comforts of the sea, you should have told me, Erulissë . . . I would have gladly taken you . . . and if that is what you wish for, then say the words and that is what you will have. You never have to return to Shreveport again if that is not what you desire. I will gladly buy you a beach house, and you may have your very own private beach to accompany it if you wish . . . I will buy you your very own island if that is what your heart desires . . . saes, please Erulissë . . . tell me what I can do for you. Please let me do something – anything that will make you smile again."

Grace took a deep breath and opened her eyes. It took as much courage as anything she'd ever done, but she turned around to face Nuada, leaning back against the glass to give herself a moment just to enjoy how wonderful he looked, how fantastic he smelled. He was so elegant, so beautiful and masculine . . . and he was also so non-human . . . so immortal and so unlike her. "You plan to bring Serena along too? Put her on one end of that island and me on the other?" she asked flatly.

Grace was so tired she didn't even have the energy to be sarcastic, but her meaning was crystal clear, and Nuada just shook his head softly. "I deserved that," he answered.

"Yes, you did," she said. Her mind was boiling yet again with wild memories of that night in Crash Mansion, and never had Grace been happier to have that magic little ring on her finger – 'cause if Nuada knew what she was thinking at that particular moment, he might never speak to her again.

Nuada reached up to brush gentle fingers down her cheek, his expression full of love and compassion. "There is much to be discussed between us, melethril nín, but know that I have not been back to that place, nor do I intend to. Serena is nothing but a common whore – a prostitute that means less than nothing to me . . . while you mean everything to me. I have never offered to share my life with another creature, nor have I ever held such feelings for any other. You are so very special to me, A'maelamin . . . you own my very heart . . . what can I do to make you understand that?"

"You fuck that whore, but you won't fuck me . . . but you love me, and I own your heart?" Grace countered. "And that's all supposed to be just fine with me?"

Nuada took her face in his hands and tipped it up slightly, lifting her chin so those breathtaking emerald green eyes were trained on hers. "Erulissë, never so long as I draw breath will I fuck you . . . I will devote my life to bringing you pleasure, and I will make love to you until you can no longer think, but never, ever dream that I would dishonor you by treating you the same as that whore."

"I'm flattered . . . but is the real reason you aren't going back to your whore because she's dead now? . . . or because you really don't want to?" Grace said cooly, watching with satisfaction as Nuada's eyes narrowed slightly and his jaw clenched. She was fighting a fierce internal struggle between spitting in his face and slapping the shit out of him, and kissing him stupid and throwing him right down on that floor. Never had that little ring come in more handy.

"The whore is not dead, Erulissë, nor do I believe you wish her death – relocated perhaps - but not dead . . . and I do not believe you meant the other things you said here earlier tonight either . . . but feel free to correct me if I am wrong." Nuada was imploring Grace to take back her statement that she didn't want him as her guardian anymore, and he was positive Grace was not a killer - not even an indirect one – so her answer surprised him.

" I did mean what I said here earlier," Grace said firmly, catching the surprised looks on the faces of the other men at the table across the room who had stopped arguing to now listen intently. "Relocating your whore only means that you have to pop yourself somewhere else to fuck her . . . and yes, Nuada . . . so long as you aren't _making love_ to me, I'm pretty damn sure you're gonna be fucking her so save the sales pitch - I'm not buying."

"Erulissë, I am not lying, I swear it," Nuada professed desperately, catching her hand and placing it over his heart. "Come back to me and I will show you . . .I should never have walked away from you that afternoon . . . I should have stayed, I should have held you . . . told you how much I loved you . . . Erulissë saes, please . . . I do love you, I swear it. Take my hand, we will leave this place together."

Grace tried to ignore the tear that slid down her cheek, but her heart fell to dust as she gently ran her fingers over the smooth black silk of his shirt. She could feel Nuada's heart beating under that fabric, could clearly remember what his skin felt beneath her fingertips, could feel the warmth of his touch from the hand that was pressed over hers. "I know you love me, but you have choices to make, Nuada," she whispered in a broken voice. "Before you ask me to take your hand again, you need to be ready to give me as much as I'm willing to give to you . . . no more games, no more secrets, no more lies . . . and you need to know that if you truly belong to me, I am never, ever going to share you with some whore."

The last words were a whisper, and she pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his fingers as he had kissed hers so very many times before and tears were sliding down her face as Grace looked up at him - one of which landed right on his hand, slowly making a tiny wet trail against his skin, taunting him, showing him what he had done to her.

"I am never going to stop until I get you back," Nuada assured her, squeezing her hand in his.

"I hope you don't," she answered seriously. "I really, really hope you don't."

Grace gave Nuada one last long appreciative look, then pulled away from him, refusing to look back as she crossed the room to Glorfindel. She put her hand on the elf's massive arm as she looked to Lord Niall, struggling to collect her emotions enough to speak. Finally she did, but her voice was strained, belying her jumbled emotions and frayed nerves. "I don't know what everything I've been through tonight means, but whether it's good or it's bad, there are several things you need to realize before I leave this place. First of all, I'm willing to listen, but only if you agree to do the same . . . and you need to call your dogs off me and my friends, because the harder you push me, the harder I'm gonna push back . . . now secondly, let me gently remind you that fairies aren't the only supernatural creatures on this earth with the power to turn somebody into something with a long life span, so don't flatter yourself into thinking that being turned into a fairy is the only option I have, because it isn't . . . and lastly, know that no matter what happens to me before this ends . . . you will NEVER do to my cousin what you've done to me."

Ignoring her great-grandfather's stunned expression, Grace turned to Lord Elrond. "I'll be waiting to hear from you," she said, passing a tortured glance toward Nuada, "and obviously if anybody needs to get a message to me from this point on, they know how to do it."

Her voice was just fading as Grace and Glorfindel disappeared, and Elrond immediately passed Niall a demanding stare, "To my terrace – now! We have much to discuss this night yet, brother." Niall said nothing, only passing his own concerned look toward Nuada before fading away along with Elrond.

That left Nuada alone, and he took a moment to collect himself. Stepping to the glass where Grace had leaned, he ran a fingertip up the glass, collecting the residue her body had left on a fingertip that he then put to his lips. He casually tasted it with his tongue, remembering the way her flesh felt against his mouth, as he send out a myriad of silent mental commands. Within moments those double doors burst open and that elite team of twelve fairy guardians came rushing in. "Where are we on that damn vampire's information?" he demanded.

**********************************************************************

On South Padre Island, Glorfindel put Grace back in the kitchen of that beach house, and they looked at each other for a moment. The elf seemed as if he wanted to say something, but he got the hand – the southern shut up palm treatment, although Grace did it politely. "Please don't," Grace said firmly. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done, but please . . . no more tonight . . . go home, get some rest. You can check on me later. I'm safe and I'm fine."

Glorfindel frowned, but like Grace he'd had enough drama for one night, so he nodded to her politely then disappeared. Haldir of Lórien was in the Golden Wood on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, so the warrior knew he needed to go speak with his friend to settle him.

The very instant he was gone, Grace flew to the other side of that kitchen, jerking her laptop open and logging onto her e-mail account. She tore through the one from Amelia, reading it over and over again. The witch's suggestions for that spell were surprising to say the least – intriguing – and very, very plausible. Grace lit a cigarette as she mulled them, contemplating her suggestions along with everything she'd been through that night. Never in a million years would she have expected that heart baring confession from Nuada . . . never did she expect to have Logan show up in her face . . . never would she have dreamed that being bitten by a vampire was so damn enjoyable . . . and never did see ever expect to see a vampire's manhood being massaged by an elf – particularly a vampire's manhood that had a pretty little gold ring in the end of it!

Grace was stunned by all of it – nearly as stunned as she'd been that first afternoon when she woke up in Rivendell – but she'd seen so much strange shit since that warm afternoon, she refused to freak out. Instead, she chose to find the humor in the situation, concentrating on one of her very favorite quotes, from one of her very favorite comedians . . .

"When life gives you lemons, I believe you should try to make lemonade . . . and then you should find someone who's life is giving them vodka, and have a party!" – Ron White, Comedian

Well Grace sure as hell had plenty of lemons to choose from, 'cause her life sucked to monumental proportions, so that girl was certainly ready for the vodka part about now . . . so while she didn't have any liquid relief at her disposal, she decided to take some mental relief just the same . . . and that relief took the form of Jaus's dick. Grace couldn't help but smirk as she thought about Glorfindel rubbing on Jaus – and she laughed out loud when she thought about how Jaus reacted. She lit a cigarette and purely cackled as she sat there contemplating the fact that there must be a shop somewhere that had some extremely lucky – or extraordinarily unfortunate – soul sitting there all day, piercing men's dicks. It was hilarious, and the more she thought about it, the harder she laughed . . . and the more she thought . . . until Grace finally came to a startling conclusion. Most piercing was done in a tattoo parlor . . . and if like Amelia's e-mail suggested, writing that spell on any object would protect it . . . well – why couldn't she be an object? Suddenly Grace had a terribly devious, wicked and downright evil thought . . . how wonderful had it been to be in that office tonight, surrounded by those powerful supernatural creatures . . . none of which could read one freaking thing from her mind? It had been almost as damn good as that orgasm she'd had when Logan bit her . . . sweet and satisfying right down to her soul . . . and what if she could feel that way all the time??

Grabbing that cell phone, Grace was literally shaking with excitement as she called Jaus, thrilled when he answered. "How's Logan?" she forced herself to calm down and ask.

"He's fine, Grace," Jaus said politely. "Itching to get back over there and check on you, but it's too late - he'll have to wait till tomorrow. Little brother needs some rest, so I told him we'd go by sometime tomorrow evening. Now, how did things go with you and your tasty elf friend?"

"Things went just fine," Grace answered as vaguely as possible, "but listen, I know I'm in absolutely no position, but . . . I need another favor, Jaus."

"Another favor?" Jaus answered curiously. "Well goodness, I'm starting to feel like Santa Claus over here . . . so do tell . . ."

"Who did your piercing?" Grace asked, lighting another cigarette.

**********************************************************************

In Shreveport, Eric Northman was certainly getting his fair share of lemons for one night as well . . . and even in the private office of Fangtasia, that vampire wasn't getting a drop of liquid relief to go along with them either. It was nearly four in the morning now, and he'd never heard back from Nuada, Logan was gone, and now he was completely in the dark. He had no idea what was happening with Grace, but he was about to get some most interesting information, and from a very unlikely source.

Eric was sitting with his feet propped on the corner of his desk, scrolling through his phone looking for any messages from Nuada when the office door opened and Pam stuck her head into his office. "Eric, you've got a call on line 3 . . ." she said insistently.

"I'm not taking any calls, Pam," Eric replied briskly,

"Well, you better take this one. It's Victor Madden, and he doesn't sound happy," Pam informed, noting the way Eric's head popped up from that blackberry. She gave him a knowing look, then closed the door. Pam didn't know what exactly went on in that office last night, but she had the deepest suspicious that this phone call related to it . . . and she was absolutely correct.

Eric hesitated before hitting the blinking button and bringing that phone to his ear, but there was no avoiding it, so finally he did. "Eric Northman here."

"Eric, how are things?" Victor asked, his voice flat, revealing nothing.

"Fine," Eric answered, determined to give away nothing.

"How's that little pet of yours doing?" Victor asked, knowing it would rile the sheriff.

"My fiancée, Sookie is doing quite well, thank you," Eric said.

"Glad to hear it . . . although, I must say, some of the other things I'm hearing aren't quite so well . . . Is there something going on at Fangtasia that I need to know about?" Victor asked pointedly.

Eric paused, considering his answer carefully. He was not sure where this line of questioning was going . . .

"There've been a few things going on lately, but nothing I can't handle. Why do you ask?" he countered.

"You're lying Eric, and you know how I feel about that," Victor snapped harshly. "You've also gotten yourself into something that's a lot more serious than I think you realize, so you want to rephrase that answer?"

"I do not," Eric answered.

"Fine, have it your way," Victor said, "but if you don't intend to talk, then you damn well better listen. I don't know what went on in Shreveport earlier tonight, but I just received the most interesting phone call - from Joseph Valesquez. You do know who Joseph is don't you Eric?"

"He's the right hand man to Stan Davis, King of Texas," Eric said, genuinely surprised.

"That's right," Victor said sarcastically, "and Stan Davis is extraordinarily fond of him, so let me give you the short version of how this is playing out. I don't know what you did or didn't do to your little minion Logan earlier this evening, but he's undoubtedly got a brother in Texas . . . a brother who just so happens to be in the very good graces of one Joseph Valasquez. Seems Joseph got a call from him a little while ago requesting safe harbor for his brother Logan. He asked protection for him – from you. Joseph called Stan, Stan called Felipe, Felipe called me and now I'm calling you . . . so see how this works, Eric? Shit goes up, and then it comes back down, and right now it seems to be landing in your lap. Now I'm gonna ask this one last time – you wanna tell me what went on in Shreveport earlier tonight?"

The pause was much longer that time, as Eric carefully weighed his options – none of them were good. "Alright Victor, I'll give you the short version as well. I just found out that Logan is helping to hide someone – someone very important to some very dangerous people - people who can hurt my business, not to mention hurt me, as well as many of the vampires in Louisiana. I gave him the option of returning that person, or leaving, but he chose the coward's way out and ran. I didn't even realize Logan had a brother until you just told me a few seconds ago . . ."

"Well, now you do . . . and this is coming straight from Felipe de Castro himself. You leave Logan and his brother alone. You set one foot in Texas, and you'll regret for a very long time . . . unless, there's some information you can give me to take back to Felipe? Some reason why he should feel differently about this?"

"Victor, I have no intentions of going to Texas, but you don't understand who we're talking about here . . . if Logan and his brother continue to hide this person, they stand an excellent of dying . . . and there's not going to be a damn thing any vampire can do about it, including Stan or Joseph!"

Palpable silence fell over the telephone line that time, then finally Victor answered. "Eric, don't think that I don't know exactly what's been going on in your little town there for the past eight or nine months. Oh I'm sure I'm missing some details, but I know all about your pet's new cousin who showed up, and that scary blond creature that came dragging in behind her that you're so damned fond of . . . it's all seemed harmless enough, although Felipe wasn't impressed with that unplanned tribunal he had to approve . . . but if you're trying to avoid telling me that Logan's hiding someone from those god damned fairies, then you better take your head out of your ass and start talking to me and fast because your obsession with these putrid little blood bags you insist on protecting is getting very old with me."

"You give me an address, a name, a phone number – anything to tell me where Logan is, and I can make this all go away in under five minutes," Eric answered quickly. "Odds are, if Logan's hiding in Texas with his brother, the person he's hiding is there too . . . they get her back, this all goes away."

"Can you guarantee the safety of Logan and Jaus?" Victor demanded.

"No," Eric reluctantly admitted, knowing he stood no more of a chance controlling Nuada in his current state than he did of making the sun not rise in the morning.

"Then you get nothing, but a word of caution," Victor answered. "If I were you, I'd be doing everything possible to make this go away quickly and quietly, because I can guarantee you, if something happens to Logan's brother Stan and Joseph are going to blame you . . . and I don't think you even want to know where that might lead."

"I understand," Eric said flatly, hanging up, then immediately beginning to dial again. The last thing he needed was to be threatened by Victor tonight, and for all he knew Nuada may have already found Logan and Jaus . . .

"Hello, Eric," Nuada said, thrilling Eric when he answered the phone. He sounded almost happy, and Eric frowned, contemplating what might have made the mercenary feel that way tonight.

"I believe Grace might be in Texas," Eric said quickly. "Logan has a brother there, and that's undoubtedly where he's gone. I just got a call."

"Funny you should mention that," Nuada said, leaning back into his cushy office chair in Los Angeles, running cool emerald eyes over the laptop a fairy guardian had just placed in front of him, then glancing to the huge United States Map on the wall. "I have Logan's cell phone records, and I am sitting here looking at a triangulation of that cell phone, and it is being used right this very minute somewhere just east of Brownsville, Texas . . . which isn't far from the ocean."

"Well listen, track the cell phone, but before you go doing anything stupid, we need to talk . . ." Eric began explaining, imploring his friend to listen.

Thankfully, Nuada did listen, and Eric felt somewhat relieved when he finally hung up with Nuada some ten minutes later. In honor of their friendship, Nuada had promised - albeit reluctantly - not to harm Logan or his brother. He was only interested in finding Grace, and so long as that was accomplished in a timely fashion and she was safe, he would not hold them responsible . . . at least not for a while anyway . . . because that mercenary had all eternity to exact his revenge, and Eric knew ultimately he most certainly intended to, but so long as he could keep Victor off his back, he was happy; and the news Nuada shared about Grace - while mixed - seemed overall positive. He remembered Glorfindel quite clearly from the two times he'd seen the elf, and Eric knew if that hulking warrior was watching over Grace, the girl was safe if nothing else. He also knew that if messages could be securely delivered to her through that elf, they could begin negotiating with her, and hopefully bring that girl home.

The total of the information brought him a great sense of relief, and Eric actually felt at peace for the first time in days when he leaned back in that chair and put his feet on the corner, and he smiled softly when his cell phone and he saw it was Sookie. "Hello lover," he said smoothly. "It's awfully late for you to be calling isn't it? Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Grace just called me," Sookie said in a panic. "She got bitten by a vampire earlier tonight . . . and she liked it!"


	46. Hide and Seek

Chapter 46 – Hide and Seek

"I heard," Eric said flatly, intentionally keeping his face blank.

"You heard what?" Nuada answered. The creature looked like warmed over death. Dark circles strewn under his eyes, haunted hollows lingering against his cheeks . . . even his skin had taken on a strange sallow appearance. He looked like shit.

"You gonna move and let me come in so we can talk about it, or are you just gonna stand there and stare at me with those glassy red eyes of yours?" Eric countered sarcastically.

Nuada looked at his friend strangely for a moment, almost as if his brain was not capable of digesting the simple request, then after shaking his head as if to clear it, he stepped aside. In his mental delirium, manners had been forgotten and he fought to compose himself as he closed the heavy carved wood door of the luxury apartment in Shreveport. "What did you hear?" Nuada repeated, walking over to flop on one of the massive leather couches.

It was a little after 9:00PM on Sunday night - the time Eric Northman always came over, typically with Sookie, so the four friends could spend time together – yet Nuada was dressed in his pajama bottoms, and he both looked and sounded exhausted. Obviously with Grace gone, Nuada hadn't expected company . . . and to make matters worse, it appeared that he had been drinking again. Eric frowned. The last time he spoke with Nuada was in the wee hours of Saturday morning and Nuada had actually seemed upbeat after finding Logan's phone number and beginning a trace on it, yet he had not heard from his friend since, and now he looked like the end of the world had arrived. Eric wondered what had changed . . . so he left his question open ended, hoping Nuada would fill in some of the blanks for him. "Grace called Sook . . . told her she got bitten by a vampire . . ."

Nuada did not fill in the blanks. He just sat there with his eyes glued to the floor as haunting images of Grace's neck with those two punctures in it that was seared into his brain came floating across his eyes yet again. They refused to go away, right along with the renewed sensations of how wonderful Grace smelled, tasted and felt beneath his fingers since he had seen her in that LA conference room – sensations that had combined with teasing tidbits of information to make a lethal cocktail that was threatening to slowly poison him to death. That overly proficient guardian knew now that Grace was in Texas – hell, Nuada even had the general vicinity narrowed down to the radius of a cell phone transmission tower – but he did not know exactly where she was, and as large as the search area was combined with the hundreds of thousands of people who lived in that nearby city, he knew it could easily take weeks, or even months yet to find her – and that was time he did not have! He was positive he was losing his mind.

"Ahem . . ," Eric prodded, clearing his throat.

"Yes Eric – Erulissë was bitten by a vampire," Nuada growled in little more than a whisper. "or to be more specific, she was bitten by Logan . . . and she did indeed seem quite . . . pleased by it! Sexually pleasured no less - I could see it on her flesh – in her eyes – even tell from her scent that she had been sated!"

Nuada spat the words out like a fungus growing in his mouth, and Eric frowned. He had already suspected that Grace and Logan were together, but Nuada had conveniently failed to mention THAT little tidbit of info during their last phone conversation, and the vampire suddenly found himself straining against the urge to strangle Nuada yet again. When was that man going to start sharing ALL the information with him? Seemed every time there was something critically important to be said that pertained to Grace, the dumbass just somehow forgot to mention it! Struggling for a blank face and failing, Eric settled for one of one of Sookie's stupid stares. "And?" he demanded calmly.

Nuada's eyes leapt off that floor to rake over Eric. "And what? That is to be acceptable to me? She is . . . Erulissë is mine! I love her! No other creature is to touch A'maelamin Erulissë! No one brings such pleasures to her flesh but me!"

The stupid stare continued. "Just because Logan bit Grace, it doesn't mean he fucked her. He just made her . . . you know."

Fucked her? Made her? Made her what?? Nuada's eyes reddened and narrowed. "I most certainly do not know Eric," he hissed. "All I DO know is that Erulissë showed up in LA looking like she'd just crawled out of bed! She literally glowed and it is making me nauseous to even think of it!"

Eric eased himself onto the couch across from Nuada, as he debated that. Logan was over five hundred years old and damn well aware of how to please a human simply by biting them . . . but Logan was also a five hundred year old vampire who knew how to please a human in a whole plethora of other ways too . . . and he'd been attracted to Grace for a very long time, and now they were holed up together somewhere in Texas together? Hmmmm . . . very interesting . . . very dangerous too!

"You know . . . you could've mentioned that happened between them before I asked you to promise not to hurt him and his brother," Eric countered carefully. "But not to worry – I knew you were lying - and anyway, if Logan wanted Grace to rock off when he bit her, there wouldn't have been a damn thing she could do about it but enjoy . . . and you know she loves you. Hell, it's not like she's a virgin or anything!"

"Rock Off? A virgin?" Nuada gasped, turning pale as a sheet. "What in the Valar does that have to do with anything!"

"Oh stop being so damn dramatic and naïve," Eric insisted casually. "Grace wasn't a virgin when you met was she? The damn girl did know what an orgasm was? It's not like Logan broke her in or anything . . . She's breathing isn't she? You know she's gotten off before - you understanding what I'm saying to you?" Eric was being a sarcastic jerk because he knew good and well while Grace wasn't a slut, she certainly wasn't pristine either. He'd heard all about her and Haldir – those two had fucked like wild rabbits and that was well before her and Nuada got started. All Logan did was bite her – and obviously give her one hell of an orgasm in the process – but again, all he did was bite her!

Nuada's face clouded. "I do NOT understand what you are saying to me!" Nuada nearly screamed back. "Are you asking me if I was the first to lay with Erulissë? No . . . she had known the touch of another before mine, why? Why would you ask such a thing?"

Eric rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Good God Nuada! I know as old as your ass is, you are not that damn stupid! Human girls might not be as horny as vamps . . . ." he stopped suddenly, shrugged and smiled slightly, "ok, some are . . . but listen, they like sex as much as anybody else does. You don't really think any girl's gonna just go without do you? Whether Grace is getting it from you or not, I bet she's got some battery powered help you can't begin to imagine . . . there are lots of ways to make yourself happy!"

Nuada nearly burst into flames, and he just about crawled over that coffee table to get to Eric. "What the fuck are you saying to me? That you believe Erulissë intends to turn into some type of whore? That she intends to turn into one of these fangbanger sluts that is to be fed on by vampires and allow their flesh to be used by them?"

Eric shook his head in stunned amazement – seemed Nuada really was that ignorant! "For Christ's sake Nuada! No Nuada – NO! That's not what I'm saying at all. All I'm trying to tell you, is that if a girl isn't getting her needs satisfied one way, she's gonna get them satisfied a different way . . . and if just once, that satisfaction happened to come from a vampire bite, so what? No harm, no foul! Logan bit her, Grace got off – what's the big deal?"

"I am going to kill that sorry bastard for real this time – and it is going to be a thousand times more unpleasant than before," Nuada bellowed, his eyes flooding with red flames like lava. "The only way Erulissë will ever find sexual pleasure is through me! Not from any other battery powered thing, or a god damned vampire bite!"

"Hmmp!" Eric snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. The phrase – "what planet are you from?" was taking on a whole new meaning, because Eric was beginning to realize that obviously the females in the elf realm did NOT act like the females on earth – or either Nuada was just too damn stupid to notice! It was time for Nuada to get a little wake up call – and a harsh reality check. Eric would try a different approach. "Do you think Grace is cute?" he posed seriously.

"Cute? As in do I find Erulissë to be attractive?" Nuada snapped, fighting to calm himself.

"Yeah – cute?"

"Erulissë is not cute! She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen!" Nuada ground out angrily, causing Eric to smirk.

"Fine - Grace is beautiful," he agreed calmly, "and do you think you're the only man that's ever noticed?"

Nuada opened his mouth, then closed it again as his fingers sank into the leather of that couch in a valiant attempt to keep from breaking something. He could not say that he had ever stopped to consider whether or not other men looked at Grace. His eyes turned to evil slits as he contemplated that, suddenly remembering how Sebastian Ruthven had hit on her that night in Carolina Customs and how Alcide Herveaux always stared at her ass. He seethed, then he snorted. "Hmppp! I suppose they do."

Eric smiled softly, pleased that he seemed to be making progress. The vampire had a very important point he came here to make tonight, and he was trying to pose this somewhat delicately – although finding out about Logan and Grace was adding a whole new and unexpected dimension to the conversation! Grace had run her mouth to Sookie Stackhouse about a whole lot more than just being bitten by a vampire when she called early Saturday morning . . . and Sookie repeated every single word right back to him. Eric now knew for a fact Nuada had not slept with Grace since before Christmas, so obviously there was a problem between them – a HUGE one.

"Alright, so we've got a cute girl that other guys notice," he said suggestively. "Grace got any reason to be satisfying herself? Or has she been getting everything she needs at home?"

"What are you trying to insinuate?" Nuada said coldly. "That Erulissë is not satisfied sexually? That she is beginning to seek pleasure elsewhere?"

Bingo! Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding! We have a winner!!

But Eric was never gonna say that – not directly anyway. "I have no idea how happy Grace is about her sex life . . ." Eric responded casually, beginning to study one of his shoes as if it were the most interesting thing in that room. "I guess it would tie in with how happy you are about yours. . . are you satisfied in that . . . area?" He snuck a glance over to Nuada, wondering if his friend would talk to him about something so private in nature.

Nuada had gone perfectly still – he didn't even seem to be breathing - and he was looking at Eric like he was holding the key to Pandora's box. "There is nothing about Erulissë that I do not find satisfying," he answered carefully.

"Great! Then you won't mind explaining why you've been fucking that whore in Los Angeles?" Eric demanded forcefully, bringing those cool blue eyes up to pin Nuada against that big leather sofa. He'd been busting to ask that question for two weeks now, and it was time. He expected an answer - an honest one – and he didn't intend to leave until he got it, so settling back into that plushy obnoxious couch, he just got comfortable. Eric planned to sit there all night if that's what it took.

Poor Nuada. The creature was sitting across the room looking like he was before a firing squad, trying to decide just how much Grace might have told Sookie - and how much Sookie repeated to Eric. His guess? Everything down to the last sweat droplet. Again – Bingo! "My intimate relationship with Erulissë is . . . complicated. I do not know how to explain it."

"How about you don't have one? From what I hear, that hasn't been happening for months now!" Eric blurted out bluntly. Elves might be shy about such things, but vampires sure as hell weren't. There was nothing a bloodsucker wouldn't talk about, right down to the tiniest skin shuddering detail!

Nuada gasped loud enough for it to echo off the ceilings. "That is not true! Is that what Erulissë told Sookie? That I do not ever give her pleasure?" He was absolutely mortified. Being called Fido Fucker was bad enough – being called that and having the woman you love tell her friends that you couldn't satisfy her was something else entirely. Nuada was stunned, and he jumped off that couch to start pacing, muttering under his breath in some foreign language Eric couldn't understand. Obviously, the vampire had struck a nerve.

"She didn't say you never gave her pleasure . . . she said the two of you don't actually . . . you know . . .," Eric tried to explain. "I just wondered if there was a problem . . . something you might need some help with?"

Nuada stopped pacing, snatching around to face Eric so fast that long blonde hair went flying in every direction. "A problem? What kind of problem?"

Nuada's voice had frozen and those venomous red eyes were burning like bon fires, telling Eric that he was venturing into dangerous territory. It reminded the old warrior of dark voyages long past into rough seas on a Viking Ship. He hoped his boat didn't swamp.

"Well, you are . . . older," Eric noted carefully, hoping that mercenary didn't come flying across the room to tackle him in a minute.

Poor dumb blond idiot. Nuada had no idea what Eric was trying to say to him. He was so confused, he just stood there - staring at Eric like a dog listening to a high pitched sound while he tried to figure out what his age had to do with anything. "I am fifty-three centuries of age . . . so what? There are many immortals much older than me. What does that have to do with Erulissë?"

Eric's eyebrows went up as he looked over Nuada carefully. That critter really was older than dirt, but he certainly didn't look that old, and he was obviously in perfect physical condition – at least from what he'd seen – but then Eric wasn't familiar with immortal elves, and he hadn't seen every part of Nuada, and well, life was full of surprises. "I'm just saying that for some species, things deteriorate with age . . . something might stop working the way it used to . . . you know . . . stuff gets tired after a while."

"Tired? I do not feel tired . . . and I do not understand this deterioration you speak of," Nuada said, pacing to the far side of the room as he worked Eric's words in his mind . . . then suddenly he began to catch on and his eyebrows went for the sky. "What in the name of the Valar has Erulissë said to Sookie Stackhouse about me?" he retched out, instantly tracing across that room to plant himself directly in front of Eric. "You tell me this instant!"

Eric fought to keep that classic vampire blank look on his face as he studied his shoe some more. This was taking relationship advise to a whole new never before explored level - and while Eric would gladly offer Nuada some of his blood to help him out if he was having a personal issue in the sexual area, he had absolutely no idea how to tactfully ask a mercenary who'd just recently threatened to castrate one of this friends if he couldn't get it up anymore . . . It was a very sensitive subject.

"I'm not sure exactly how to tell you what Grace said," Eric answered reluctantly, passing a tentative glance up at his friend.

"Eithad!" Nuada demanded in a violent retch. "I do not care how you word it - you tell me this instant what was said about me, or I shall go directly to Sookie's house and ask that girl myself!"

"Don't bother," Sookie sniped back in her best southern smartass tone. "I'm standing right here!"

Well that was certainly unexpected, and both men turned to face the door, shocked to hear Sookie's voice. Eric was not the only one who remembered their little Sunday night get together. Sookie was just running a little late, and she'd been standing at that door listening to this unbelievable conversation with rapt curiosity. It certainly had not disappointed!

"What did Erulissë say to you? And I want the truth – all of it!" Nuada demanded loudly, taking a step toward Sookie that was threatening enough to bring Eric up off the couch.

"She said ya'll hadn't slept together in months . . . poor girl's gone without dick for 172 days, and she's wondering if yours still works! Or better yet, why it only works when it's shoved up a whore's ass!"

"What?" Nuada screeched, while Eric nearly swallowed his tongue.

He could not believe his fiancée just said that, and he was just begging Sookie with his eyes to be quiet, but too bad that hostile waitress wasn't planning on it. She was just getting warmed up! "It's the damn truth! What the hell's wrong with you?" she demanded, pointing a finger at Nuada like he was one of Merlotte's drunks that needed bringing down a few notches. "You got limp dick or something? Or is my simple southern cousin just not good enough for you . . . but that high-class, big-city, red-haired slut mongrel is?"

Nuada's mouth fell open and Eric's brain was burning by the time she finished. "Sookie, shut the fuck up!" he rasped out, praying Nuada didn't choke her before he could get across that room between them.

"Erulissë has counted the days since I possessed her?" Nuada noted incredulously.

"Yeah . . . believe it or not, us southern girls can count! Even the scared little scarred up ones!" Sookie seethed back, leaning around Eric to glare at Nuada, since her vampire lover had just shadowed himself across the room to physically get between them.

"Well you must not be smart enough to do much more than count," Nuada spat back, "if you and Erulissë are ignorant enough to think that I am no longer capable of physically sating a woman, because – believe it or not - there is not a god damned thing wrong with this ancient immortal's gweth!" To emphasize his point, Nuada grabbed his crotch, while Eric smacked himself in the forehead and cringed. This was SO not going the way he'd wanted it to . . . and it was about to get a lot more interesting!

"Daro i! Stop that at once, mellon nín!" Glorfindel demanded. That deep, authoritative voice was loud enough to roll off the walls, and everybody froze, turning to stare toward the kitchen where the hulking elf warrior had just silently poofed himself.

"What the hell?" Eric exclaimed, passing an incredulous look over that elf. He would never get used to the way those damned creatures just appeared and disappeared like that! "Why are you here?" he demanded in return.

"He probably came to check on my ability to procreate!" Nuada spewed sardonically. "Everyone else did!"

Those charcoal eyes passed a cautionary look to Nuada. That elf had seen enough foreign male anatomy to last him a while! "I most certainly am not here to check on any portion of your physique or the ability of your body to function properly!" Glorfindel warned.

"Well, thank the Valar for that! Miracles obviously do happen!" Nuada muttered with a grimace, stalking to the wet bar. He had tried desperately to stay away from that sweet brown liquor of late, but those heated gulps Friday night had reminded his taste buds just how warm and comforting that numbing liquid was, so he fixed himself a glass . . . a big one.

Glorfindel passed Eric a "stay the hell out of my way" look, then went to Nuada. The creature was staring out the window, trying to collect himself . . . and Glorfindel didn't have to wonder why he needed to – not after hearing the little fragment of conversation he interrupted! "Mellon nín, I am on my way to check on the Pinilyaer. I wondered if there was anything you wished me to convey on your behalf . . . a message? A gift you would like delivered perhaps?"

Eric and Sookie were listening intently, and that was not a suggestion either one of them was going to let Nuada pass by. "Of course he does!" Eric said firmly. "Don't you, Nuada?"

Sookie backed up her fiancée's comment with a blue eyed stare hard enough to knock Nuada down, and he gladly returned it, glaring at them both over the rim of his crystal tumbler, the flames in his eyes reflecting off the cuts in that glass. The mercenary was being pushed far, far beyond his emotional limits. Confessing his love to Grace in front of those other three men in LA had been a monumental deviation from his normally reserved and extremely private nature – and now to be faced with three more creatures who were not only readily butting into his love life, but discussing his ability to sexually satisfy the woman who garnered that love . . . well, it was enough to make anybody testy. He turned his attention back to Glorfindel. "Is there something Erulissë has asked for?" he asked seriously. "Something that might help to comfort or soothe her?"

"The Pinilyaer has asked for nothing, but I heard you offer the return of something to her when you were speaking. Earrings? Is that the correct word? And I believe you also mentioned a puzzle box? I thought perhaps I might collect the objects and deliver them to her." Glorfindel's voice was perfectly polite, but his insistent stare was telling Nuada that he expected him to cough up something for Grace – now.

"How is she?" Nuada asked in a desperate tone. "Has Erulissë eaten anything? She did not look well . . ." He paused, struggling to contain himself as he threw back the last of that Crown Royal, then slammed the glass down on the wet bar counter. "Take me to her, Glorfindel . . . I can make her come home!"

"You are not going to make her do anything," Glorfindel answered calmly, only the slightest rise of his brows belying the intensity behind that statement. "The little one obviously desires time alone, and I intend her to have it, but you may rest easy knowing the very instant the Pinilyaer asks for you, I shall make you aware of her location. Until then, I fear you will have to settle for my most generously extended delivery services."

Nuada looked like he was going to explode, but Eric interrupted before he could. "Is Grace really alone?" Eric contradicted in an accusatory tone, walking toward the elf. "Or is she staying with Logan's brother . . . and I'm guessing Logan too, now? Because that doesn't qualify as alone where I'm from."

"Logan has a brother?" Sookie murmured softly, quickly stifling her questions when she got a vicious glance from Eric.

"Grace is staying with no one. She is alone," Glorfindel answered firmly, passing Eric an almost chilling look. Elves did not lie, and that elven warrior would be no more impressed at being questioned about his honesty than Lord Elrond had been. Eric did NOT want to go there – a fact he quickly surmised from that warning look he got from Nuada – and one that he ignored.

"Well, if Logan bit Grace, then obviously he's somewhere awfully close to her . . . and I can pretty much guess how he managed to get from Shreveport to Texas in a matter of minutes," Eric answered tersely, "so you tell my friend, he needs to contact me. Unless he plans to stay there forever."

"Texas?" Sookie repeated softly, shocked at all the strange news she was absorbing from this conversation.

"Get the things for the Pinilyaer, saes," Glorfindel told Nuada before turning to face Eric completely. "Let us understand one another, mellon nín. If I happen to see Logan, I will convey your message, but if I do not see the creature, I have no intentions of passing your words to him through Grace. The little one has suffered enough stress over the past days, and she needs no more. My interest in this situation applies to her and no other . . . and you may refer to this Texas all you wish. I know nothing of location names in this realm, so if you are intending to test me for information, you waste your efforts."

Eric visibly tensed, and Sookie automatically stepped to his side, putting a calming hand on his arm. She was desperate for information on Grace, and she'd already figured out there was way too much testosterone involved in this conversation since that scary damn elf arrived – this conversation needed to be turned in a more friendly direction. "Glorfindel, it's nice to see you again," Sookie said warmly, offering the elf her brightest fake smile. "Would you tell Grace that I asked about her, please . . . tell her that I love her and I miss her, and I'm waiting for her to come home?"

Glorfindel passed Eric a final hard look, then inclining his head to Sookie politely. "Mae, yes I will," he answered, watching with humor as Sookie elbowed Eric in the ribs.

"Please tell her the same for me as well, Glorfindel," he added sincerely, turning to watch Nuada come back down the hall.

The stressed out guardian had popped himself out of the den and into his bedroom, reverently retrieving that golden egg puzzle box from his night stand. He placed it there so he could stare at it during the night when he did not sleep, and he had also collected a most precious piece of paper from that night stand . . . along with a little secret ingredient. He intended to send it all to Grace, but he was having a small problem - his hands were shaking until he honestly could not work the catch – so he carefully sat it down on the sofa table, looking at it sadly.

"You need some help?" Sookie asked gently, passing him an understanding look and a soft smile as she came over to help. Nuada managed to nod, and showed her where the mechanism to open the box was and after a moment of struggling with it, she managed to get it open. The most beautiful delicate notes of music began to float from it, and Sookie listened in wonder as she watched Nuada ever so carefully remove a small little green box and sit it to the side.

Next, he took out a small piece of elaborate looking silk fabric, unfolding it to take a longing look at the emerald earrings he had so lovingly wrapped in it and put there for safekeeping. His fingers shook as they lightly ran over them, then he quickly wrapped them up and replaced the tiny parcel in the puzzle box. He then neatly folded the piece of paper, placing it over the earrings before easing the box closed again. His sadness and tension was palpable as Nuada crossed the den then hesitantly handed that beloved collection of his most prized possessions over to Glorfindel. The torment in his shadowed eyes spoke volumes, and it echoed through his voice when he spoke again. "Saes, please tell her - Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au – Erulissë knows what it means . . . and if she continues not to eat, take her some lembas . . . she likes that and it seems to settle her."

Glorfindel nodded, surprising Nuada when he placed a comforting hand on his arm. "You do not suffer alone, mellon nín, and you have my word that Grace is both safe and unaccompanied. I checked on her twice before the sun rose this day, and she was doing no more than sleeping. Your bond is a strong one, and it will survive this."

"Gen hannon o gûr nîn - many thanks, Glorfindel," Nuada reciprocated, nodding to him politely before the elf disappeared.

"God dammit, I want to strangle that fucking elf!" Eric exploded the very instant Glorfindel was gone. "How the hell can you be so calm about this shit? Don't you want to just hold that bastard down and choke where she is out of him?"

Nuada passed Eric a smug glance. He might look and feel like shit, but he'd just pulled off one of the best mercenary magic tricks in the book. "That fucking elf is about to show me exactly where Erulissë is . . . because I put pixie dust in that puzzle box."

"Pixie dust?" Sookie asked incredulously. "Are you serious? Like a real little fairy, pixie thing that I see in books, pixie dust?"

The guardian looked at Sookie oddly, then realized he was getting that same oddly curious expression from Eric as well. "Of course they are real. Pixies are a very annoying type of fey. Why? You want to see one?" he asked seriously.

"What?" Sookie exclaimed. "A pixie? You mean like a live one? Are you serious?"

Nuada shrugged, walking back toward the sofa table. "If you want, I can summon one . . . I personally can not stand the little fuckers . . . but you? You will probably think they are cute."

Sookie gave Nuada the frog eyed stare, then passed it over to her vampire fiancée, who immediately gave her the Eric Northman eyebrows . . . the little blond brow wiggle that told her she better agree, because he's never seen one himself. "Alright Nuada, I'd like to see one," Sookie answered, quickly slapping her hand down over that little green box he'd taken out of that puzzle just as he reached for it. "But I really wanna know what's in the box first."

Nuada looked at her coolly, and extended his hand. "You want me to show you a live pixie and what is in my little box? After the horrid accusations that were made of me earlier? That seems a bit unfair does it not?"

Keeping her hand over the box, Sookie slid it closer, ignoring Nuada's demanding outstretched hand. "If I didn't love my cousin so much, I wouldn't care who you did or didn't sleep with . . . but something's happened between ya'll that started when Grace caught you with that girl in Los Angeles . . . and it's gotten so bad that now she's hiding and she won't tell me what's wrong. So I think it's fair for me to wanna know if you really love her the way you were letting on to Glorfindel, or if that's just an act to lure that elf into finding her for you."

Nuada's expression never changed as he waved his fingers at Sookie, silently demanding she return that box, but Sookie didn't back down one inch, especially when Eric eased up beside her. The former Viking was listening intently, because Sookie was demanding the same basic answers he wanted – and he did not intend to leave until their friend provided them. "Nuada?" he prompted. "She's got a point . . . and you never answered my question earlier."

"Give me the box," Nuada answered firmly.

"Tell me if you really love my cousin," Sookie countered. "And swear that you never plan to see that Los Angeles whore again."

"Erulissë owns my heart, and I have already explained to her that that I never intend to see that whore again. Now saes, give me the box."

"You swear to the Valar or whoever it is you swear stuff to that you love my cousin?" Sookie demanded, watching carefully as Nuada's frown deepened.

"I swear it on my life . . . and if you will ever give me that box, I will show you how much I love your cousin," Nuada offered in exasperation, genuinely surprising her.

Sookie's eyes were glued to that little green box as she expectantly handed it over - as were Eric's – and two pair of blue eyes stretched wide with pure stunned admiration and approval when Nuada smiled softly and ceremoniously popped that box open. "Oh good lord, that is the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen!" Sookie exclaimed quietly.

"It better be the second most beautiful thing you've ever seen," Eric whispered in her ear, although honestly, he agreed. "When in the hell did you do that?" he asked Nuada incredulously, finding that once again his secretive friend had neglected to tell him something unbelievably important . . . and having an engagement ring designed for Grace was obviously unbelievably important!!

"I had Malcoda begin work on it the week Erulissë and I returned from South Carolina," Nuada answered, unable to suppress his soft smile as he admired the contents of that box.

"Well that was way back in February!" Sookie gasped out in surprise.

"Indeed it was," Nuada confirmed.

"May I?" Eric asked, accepting the box from Nuada and slipping the ring out to take a closer look. He and Sookie competed in staring at it in disbelief, both of them completely amazed by its intricate and unusual design. "What is it made of?" he commented, admiring the large cushion shaped flawless green stone in the center. It was peculiar but in the most alluring way, extrinsic and exotic, literally flaunting the fact that it was not of this world . . . and indeed it was not.

Nuada breathed out a sigh of pleasure, genuinely pleased at their response. "The calen or green center stone is an emerald mined from the Glittering Caves beneath the peaks of Thrihyrne in the elven realm, while the smaller stones are known as Zôrzimril . . . they are extremely rare and found only in the dark realm. That brilliant silver colored metal is a precious elven rarity known as mithril, while the gold was spun by the morning fairies of Nárthea at Ollathad, the dreaming field place."

"Well it sounds as pretty as it looks," Sookie breathed out softly, unable to tear her eyes off it. Her engagement ring was an extraordinary creation – far beyond her wildest expectations – and sentimental to an infinite level because Eric himself helped to design it with Malcoda's help. She couldn't count the compliments she'd received even if she tried and Sookie didn't even want to guess what Eric paid for it, but the ring she was currently looking at was something else entirely.

Eric continued to turn it against the light, the three of them appreciating the way the stones and metals combined to shimmer in the stillness. Malcoda had certainly outdone himself with the design, hand carving tiny little undulating waves and flames around the band, recreating teensy roses of mithril just the same as the flowers Grace had admired in Elrond's gardens and setting those Zôrzimril stones in the center of each one, then wrapping that center stone not in prongs, but in miniscule little leaves that seemed to actually be growing from the most delicate golden vine. It was breathtaking, and Sookie wondered how big of a role Nuada had played in creating it. Did Nuada work on the ring the same as Eric had worked and worried over hers, or did he just walk in and pick the thing out?

"Did you come up with all this yourself? Or did Malcoda do it for you?" she finally asked.

Her mind was working a thousand miles a minute and Nuada was not surprised at her questions – he was listening to every word – and he appreciated the fierce devotion and protectiveness Sookie held for her cousin. He couldn't help but shake his head as he answered. "Rest your mind, Sookie - this was all my doing," he assured her. "While I cannot claim that I mined the stones myself, I did indeed travel to these different regions collecting the necessary items . . . so see? There were many times that you and Erulissë were griping at my repeated trips to Los Angeles for business trips, when indeed I was not there – I was tending to something much, much more important instead. Now as to the design, that is something that Malcoda and I created together.

The waves are obviously for the ocean which provides Erulissë so much pleasure, while the flames are a tribute both to her fire, and to those obnoxious decals on her truck that she is so dearly fond of. Green was an obvious choice for the stones, as they are a compliment to the earrings I previously gave to her, and well . . . we all know why Erulissë likes green," he said, smiling as he flashed her with those amazing emerald eyes of his. "As to the rest of it, the roses are her favorite – tiny little recreations of actual flowers I snuck into Lord Elrond's gardens late at night to thieve on her behalf, while the circle vine around the top is made in an unbroken circle – it represents the never ending bond of love shared between two persons – which the leaves growing from that vine, are to represent the life of that love – a tribute to the fact that it should continue to grow for all time."

Eric was staring at Nuada like his body had been possessed by aliens before he finished talking, while Sookie literally had tears in her eyes. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined such a fountain of affection for her cousin flowing from that fierce creature standing in front of her, and quite frankly – they were both just impressed as hell.

"Do you believe Erulissë will be pleased with it?" Nuada asked seriously.

"I think she'll probably faint when you give it to her," Sookie immediately responded.

"I believe if you'd given this to Grace when you had it made, she'd still be here," Eric interjected thoughtfully, wondering why in hell Nuada didn't. It was a truly extraordinary creation, and Eric could not imagine what Grace's response would be when Nuada gave it to her . . . if he ever gave it to her.

"And just when were you intending to give this to her? Or perhaps, ahem, telling me about it?" Eric prodded. Both he and Sookie were staring at Nuada intently as Eric returned the ring, waiting impatiently for an answer as the guardian secured it in the box and gently closed it.

"I was in no hurry, which I now realize was a terrible mistake on my part," Nuada answered in an almost reminiscent tone. "I should have made Erulissë aware of my feelings long ago, but rest assured . . . the moment she returns and things settle, I will most certainly present it to her, with hopes that she will accept it as a vow of my affections."

Eric nodded, but Sookie frowned, looking at Nuada oddly. He had started to walk back to the bedroom intending to put the ring away, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "How could you?" she asked, searching his face. "How could you love Grace so much that you'd go to these different places, collect all these wonderful, beautiful things to have something so special and so precious made for her, and be seeing somebody else? I just don't understand, Nuada. I'm confused . . . and I just don't understand the things you've done."

Nuada looked down at Sookie, the strangest expression on his face as he fought to find a comprehensible answer. "Sookie, there are many things that neither you nor Erulissë understand, and I fear I know of no simple way to explain them, but I shall honor your obvious desire to protect Erulissë, and I will try. You must understand, that I am an immortal creature – a very ancient and powerful one - who harbors an unfathomable love and desire for your cousin. Now Erulissë possesses great abilities - and there is no female in this realm or another that has stirred my soul in such ways - but she is still a fragile and delicate creature – a mortal who can easily be harmed or even killed by the powers I possess. When I first lay with Erulissë, I cared for her very much, but I was not in love with her as I am now . . . and it is that change in my feelings – that deepening of emotion and desire on my part - that prevents me from joining with your cousin as I wish to."

"Erulissë and I share a sovereign bond, just as you and Eric do. It is a magnificent and powerful bond that allows us to share things with one another in ways few can imagine - but it is also cruel and unfair that it does not allow me to share all of myself with her. Now, no creature need ever question my feelings for Erulissë again. She is everything that I have ever wished for in a companion - but there are very important things that must take place between us before I can possess Erulissë again without bringing harm to her. Our bond will have to be deepened, and I will never force that upon her. It will be her choice, but if she will accept me, I intend to claim Erulissë as my own - and when I do, it will be for the first time in my lifetime - and it will also be for the last."

Sookie smiled up at him, trying to understand what he was telling her, but falling somewhat short. She couldn't quite grasp his strange explanations, but she was completely convinced of one thing – Nuada loved Grace - of that, there was no doubt. "Everything will work out for ya'll, I'm positive. I believe it. I just know it will," she told him firmly, "and Grace is gonna go crazy when she sees that ring!"

Nuada patted her hand, then chuckled as he walked toward the hall. "This ring is nothing . . . just wait till you see the house!"

***************************************

Sitting at the kitchen counter of that huge weathered grey beach house, Grace took careful note of the date – June 2 – as she diligently typed little notes to herself in a word processor document. She was working on her little personal plan – her three step course of action she'd come up with. Most notably? Step 3 – Make a Plan. Grace had added some very interesting items to that list over the past several hours that needed her attention, and at the current moment, she was obsessing over her last entry as she stared at the screen

1 – Nuada knife / demon  
2 – Bad Blood / Elrond  
3 – Blocking Spell / Tattoo / Amelia e-mail  
4 – Date with Logan  
5 – Serena / Crash Mansion

Grace secretly wished there was a way to shove that demon up Serena's ass, because while she didn't necessarily want Serena pushing up daisies somewhere, she'd certainly settle for some well deserved physically detrimental torture . . . or at least a nice relocation to Siberia or another equally friendly place. That thought made her snicker, while the one above it made her outright giggle because she already had a whole smorgasbord of ideas for that night too . . . but the morbidity of number two certainly was enough to erase her humor. Thankfully there was a bright spot - she intended to mark off at least one of them very shortly.

She was surfing the internet for ideas when Glorfindel appeared, and the elf glanced over her carefully as he sat Nuada's gift down. There were several copies of Gandalf's elven blocking spell laid on the kitchen counter, and he frowned as he sat the puzzle box down on one of them. It was a fortunate thing, because while the elf had no way of knowing, that spell was working even as it lay there, blocking the tracking pixie dust Nuada planted in that egg. The mercenary was full of surprises - but it seemed that luck was on Grace's side - and unfortunately for him, so far she was winning this little hide and seek game!

"What do you intend to do with these, Pinilyaer?" Glorfindel asked curiously.

 _What do I intend to do? Well, my scary pointy eared friend, you just hold on to your ass and see!_ "I intend to use it for the exact purpose it was created for. Why?" She answered smoothly, trying not to seem too excited to see that golden puzzle again. Grace wondered what was inside.

"And would that purpose have something to do with that strange magic box you are staring at so intently?" he asked, pointing to her laptop as he slid onto a stool.

Grace swallowed a smile. _Damn skippy it does._ "It's called a computer," she explained. "Humans use it to communicate with each other . . . and a friend of mine had some rather interesting suggestions about that spell right there. I think I'm gonna take her advice."

Glorfindel's eyebrows went up. That did not sound good. "Advice?" he inquired, pressing for more information. He was still looking over Grace carefully, and while she looked just as bad now as she had every other time he'd visited over the past three days, at this particular moment he was taking in the fact that she had written that spell right down the side of her leg in some type of black markings. What was that girl up to? "You wrote the spell directly on your flesh?" he asked incredulously. "For what purpose?"

"It's a blocking spell, made to keep objects safe . . . and it does keep objects safe doesn't it? Like my two friends, Logan and Jaus?" Grace asked seriously.

"Mae, it does," Glorfindel answered uncertainly. "What does that have to do with your flesh? You are perfectly safe and hidden so long as that ring remains on your finger . . . although I will continue to beseech you to contact Niall or Nuada again . . . that conversation remains to be completed and no compromise was reached." He stopped and frowned. "Do you see the things Nuada sent for you? The creature is very concerned for your wellbeing."

"Yep, that was awfully nice of him and you both to do that," Grace said casually, again refusing to show Glorfindel how excited she was to see it. Instead, she took off the ring and intentionally slammed it down on the counter, causing Glorfindel to stare.

"You wish to return home?" he asked, surprised. "You wish Nuada to find you?"

"Nope," Grace answered. "I wish to know if you can read my mind - and you can tell Nuada my wellbeing is just fine, but while I really do appreciate him sending me that puzzle box, there isn't going to be a compromise until I talk to Lord Elrond and find out what the hell is wrong with me. Ya'll found out anything yet?"

Glorfindel stared at Grace – then the ring – then her again. He frowned. "I have heard nothing from Elrond either. He has spoken with Niall, but as of yet he has shared nothing with me," he revealed, "and no . . . I can not hear your thoughts."

He looked genuinely surprised, and Grace found herself incapable of erasing the smile that was now plastered on her face. "Well please let him know I asked," Grace told him, twirling that ring around on the counter with her finger.

It made a very annoying sound, and Glorfindel frowned. He still could not hear her thoughts! "How are you doing that? You do not have on the ring!" he demanded.

Grace snickered, sliding off her stool to flaunt that spell written down her leg to Glorfindel. "It's because of this. The witch was right – it works!"

"You mean to tell me that you have been in contact with a witch? And that by marking a blocking spell directly onto your flesh, it works the same as on a physical object?" he asked curiously, sliding onto a stool across from her.

"Damn right it does, and I'm gonna have that sucker put on me permanently. No more brain drain – and no more tracking my ass down either. I go where I want, when I want, and no visiting unless you're invited!"

"Grace, are you certain that is a wise thing?" Glorfindel asked, deeply concerned. "There may be times that such things are necessary for your protection and well being."

Grace gave Glorfindel a cool, unimpressed look. She'd spent all day sitting at that kitchen counter, reading Amelia's e-mail over and over again, silently reliving the horror of her thoughts being revealed to the marchwarden camp over and over again. She thought about all those times Nuada had stolen tidbits of information from her – of how Haldir had begun reading her mind from the very instant they met – of how Niall always knew what she was thinking when he came over to visit. Sharing thoughts with Sookie was fun – sharing thoughts with the entire world made her nauseous - and Grace wanted permanent relief. Supernatural mind-reading creatures be damned, her thoughts were her own – and Grace was determined they were going to stay that way – for good.

"Amelia said I'd be able to override the spell if I wanted . . ." she offered in consolation, "so let's try it and see . . . can you hear me now?" Grace asked, staring at him over the counter and laughing because she felt like she was in a damn cell phone commercial.

Glorfindel looked at her oddly, then reached out to her with his mind – and connected. "Actually Pinilyaer . . . yes I can," he said in surprise, but his surprise didn't last long, and he frowned. "Daro i! Stop thinking about that!" he warned, reading unsavory and most interesting thoughts from her mind about him and Jaus.

Grace smirked and lit a cigarette, leaning back on her stool then locking that elf down under a piercing stare. She knew exactly how to get that elf to see things her way. "You remember what happened in that marchwarden hall? When everybody and their brother got to listen to my thoughts?"

Glorfindel nodded somewhat uncomfortably. It had been a horrible moment for Grace . . . and Haldir.

"Well, obviously I don't want to relive that moment – ever. That went way beyond what I consider a personal sharing violation, and besides, I'm not in any danger. We just proved I can let people hear my thoughts when I want, so if I need help, don't think I won't let somebody know. Besides Glorfindel, I thought you'd be all for this considering all the other memories I've got stuck in my head. Things like . . . oh I don't know . . . you rubbing on Jaus's dick the other night?"

Glorfindel went pale and honestly looked as if he was going to fall off that stool. "Do not even think to jest of such a thing!" he whispered softly. "My reputation would be destroyed!"

"You afraid the walls got ears, Glorfindel?" Grace noted sarcastically, giggling as she dumped the ashes from her cigarette. "Well just think - what if they had eyes too? Or better yet, a full color video recording of what happened? Because, you know the minute I sit down to talk to Nuada without that ring – or Elrond – or Haldir - they're gonna start reading my mind, and well you just know they're gonna find that juicy little moment! And while I can throw stuff all over this house, don't forget - I'm not like ya'll. I don't have that mental magic ya'll flaunt that stops people from reading my mind, and I'm sure as hell not planning to wear this ring forever."

Grace had a very valid point, and it was not one that elf intended to argue with. He was still confused, however. "When you say permanently, Pinilyaer, what do you mean? Are you telling me there is a method in this realm to place words on your flesh so they remain for a length of time? They will not change with time, or wash away when you bathe?"

"It's called a tattoo," Grace explained, flipping her computer around to show Glorfindel some pictures she'd been looking at. "They put this special ink under your skin, and it never comes off . . . ever."

"I have never heard of such a thing," he said, obviously intrigued by the idea.

"Well then you're in luck!" Jaus's voice came calling through the screen door. He opened it, and came striding in followed by Logan and another most interesting looking man. Grace knew who that man was supposed to be and why he was there – and she was completely intrigued . . . but Glorfindel wasn't.

"Who is this person?" the golden warrior demanded, coming to his feet.

"This is Matthew, he's a friend," Jaus offered, motioning to the man who just walked in behind them.

That man was giving Glorfindel a very thorough visual inspection, and Logan took the opportunity to give Grace one as well, coming over to give her a warm and very lengthy hug. "How are you?" he whispered, putting his mouth right to her ear.

"Good," she answered, trying to ignore the long blond hair that was now brushing her skin, "and you?"

"Better now," he murmured, glancing over the still clearly visible marks on her neck. "And that's a good look for you."

Grace blushed, cutting Logan an insincere warning glare. They had always flirted with one another - albeit carefully – but now that they were in Texas and Nuada wasn't around, Grace knew she was going to have to be extremely careful less she start something she couldn't get stopped. "Back off dead man," she warned, watching him slide onto the stool beside her, then finding herself both confused and surprised when Jaus slid a new cell phone across the counter to her.

"What's that for?" she asked, glancing around for the old one. She slept most of the day yesterday, and Grace honestly didn't realize it was gone.

"Just time for a new one," Jaus said casually, silently praying Nuada hadn't traced the old one before he threw it in the ocean last night. He'd thought about the phone during the night, rushed over and let himself in when he saw that no lights were on, then slipping it off the counter and destroyed it. He stared at the new phone, hoping he'd done it in time, and Matthew looked at it too – wondering just what the hell that was all about.

He and Glorfindel were through eyeballing each other, and he was taking in his surroundings with a great deal of confusion and curiosity. That egg shaped thing on the counter looked like it belonged in a museum somewhere, and he couldn't imagine what the human girl on the other side of that countertop wanted with him. Being approached by Jaus and offered a monetary bribe to make a house visit on a Sunday night was surprising enough, and now he was standing in a remote beach house kitchen looking at a little human girl that seemed to be under guard from some huge beastly creature that smelled like nothing or no one Matthew had ever seen before. He wondered what the hell he was getting into.

"And might you be the reason I'm here tonight?" he asked Grace, that deep baritone voice smooth as cream as it came rolling across that kitchen. Jaus already told him tonight's meeting was with a girl who wanted some work done, and since she was the only girl here, that kinda narrowed it down. The girl didn't strike him as the type for tattoos, he had an open mind . . . probably wanted a butterfly on her ankle or something . . . but this sure was a lot of fanfare for something so simple.

"Yes, I'm Grace," she answered. "I've seen some of your work, and wondered if you'd do some for me."

"Is that so?" Matthew answered, coming closer and finding himself startled when he looked into her eyes. The deep blue flames flickering in those endless grey depths told him immediately Grace was most certainly not the type to want a butterfly tattoo on her ankle – matter of fact, they told him she was a different type of creature entirely – a creature who, along with her trio of blond companions, obviously wanted something very important. "Well Grace, what have you seen of mine, and what can I do for you?" he asked curiously, knowing from the accent Grace wasn't from Texas.

Grace immediately started giggling, snorting cigarette smoke and taking a swig of her drink to subdue the violent fit of laughter that was threatening, while Glorfindel turned a lovely shade of soft pink. Jaus was all but beaming behind him, while Logan had that blank vampire face firmly in place. "I was lucky enough to see Jaus's piercing. That your work?"

Matthew smirked slightly. "He showing that thing off again? Actually, that was done by a friend. I only do ink. You wanting a tat, or holes?"

"I want ink," Grace answered firmly, openly admiring the beautiful pictures and patterns tracing over the heavy muscled arms protruding from that snug black t-shirt Matthew was so proficiently filling out. He looked like the leader of a biker gang - stocky, solid and intimidating, with short dark hair and a matching goatee - but his dark chocolate eyes held a strange softness, and Grace was positive he'd be worth the huge favor she'd been blackmailed into trading for this meeting.

"Well, then you're talking to the right person," he said, walking over to stand directly beside her, graciously offering his arms for her inspection. "So just what does a little lady like you need that's worth a whole lot of money, and me getting drug away from a cold beer on a Sunday evening?"

Grace frowned at the money part, knowing Jaus and Logan were already fronting her huge amounts of cash for this whole adventure she was on. It irked her because Grace had money of her own – trapped in accounts that were being tracked by the fairies - and Logan instinctively put a reassuring hand on her leg. "Money doesn't have a damn thing to do with this. That's covered, so just forget that part of it and tell him what you want. Matthew can do it, I promise because if he wasn't the best, I wouldn't have let him work on me."

"Logan, you've got tats?" Grace asked, genuinely surprised. Good god! What else were these twins hiding – besides each other, and a penis piercing??

"There's a lot you don't know about me Grace," he offered suggestively, slipping off the bar stool to start unbuttoning his shirt – and Grace watched with unmasked interest as every button let loose.

Logan and Jaus might be twins, but they were as different as night and day. Logan was in his traditional solid black ensemble, while Jaus was in faded jeans and a skin tight pullover - but damn they both looked good, and while Grace had never seen either of them without a shirt, she was certainly looking forward to it - and that vampire did not disappoint. His blond hair just glistened under those kitchen lights as Logan untucked and unbuttoned that shirt, and when he tossed it on the counter, Grace nearly pissed her pants. "Hot damn would you look at that," she murmured to herself, instantly fascinated by both the body, and what had been elaborately embellished on it.

Now Nuada had the best looking body Grace had ever seen bar none, but Logan was no pushover by any means. That nice tight ass had been well admired by her and many other women in Fangtasia – Pam in particular – and he had the chest to go right along with it. Extremely well formed and decorated by a rather inviting brush of soft blonde hair, his milky skin rippled with every move, shifting over the planes of his stomach and just daring her to look . . . and Grace wasn't just looking . . . she was flat out staring.

Dark flames wound their way down both sides of Logan's ribcage, intertwined with intricate twists of thin, thorny vines – only the thorns were actually fangs, each one detailed with a tiny drop of red blood. It was exotic, exiting, morbid, and entirely sexy all at the same time and Grace found herself completely incapable of stopping herself when she reached out to run her hand down his side. The pattern started about half way between his armpit and waist, easing slightly forward as it went flowed down his side before ending somewhere inside those pants in the hipbone region Grace was guessing - and oh was she guessing – and imagining, and dreaming. Lord have mercy, she could just imagine what was in those pants, and she knew she was gonna have to get her mind out of the gutter!

"I'll be glad to show you the rest," Logan offered with a wink, earning himself a warning glare from Glorfindel.

The elf cleared his throat loudly, causing Jaus to pass Logan his own warning look. He wisely shut up, and Matthew turned back to Grace. "That work look acceptable to you?" he asked.

"It's absolutely beautiful," Grace answered seriously, "but I'm looking for something a little different."

"I can do anything sweetheart, you just tell me what you want," he bragged in return.

"Alright," Grace said, reaching across the counter to get one of those copies of the elven spell she had laid on the counter. She painstakingly explained what she wanted, noting that if every mark was not perfectly reproduced, the spell would not work. Could he do it - would he do it?

Matthew listened patiently, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the strange markings on the piece of paper she gave him. He frowned slightly, but Matthew was never one to back down from a challenge, so he began to study Grace much closer, taking in every detail of the attractive face, the fresh vampire bite and the visible traces of scars. He was still trying to figure the entire situation out, wondering what kind of strange language was on that paper – and what that unbelievably foreign and unfamiliar smell Grace emanated meant.

"Where are you wanting this? Show me," he ordered softly, surprised when Grace stood up and without hesitation took off her own shirt, revealing her bathing suit top underneath. After two weeks of baking in the sun, Grace's already bronze flesh had deepened dramatically, making every mark on her unbelievably scarred back show up in stark reveal, and when she turned around to show Matthew her back everyone froze. It was most unexpected, and Matthew found himself struggling to maintain his composure as he contemplated her skin intently, running his fingers softly over a place here, a place there. With all those scars, it would be very difficult. Such intricate work with such unusual words would be like nothing he'd attempted before, and he knew the scars would have to be incorporated. "Are you wanting some type of pattern? Just the words? You have something in mind, or you want me to draw up a design? Tell me what I'm doing," he prompted, his mind obviously working furiously as he crossed his arms over the breadth of that muscled chest and continued to study her.

"Well, I don't just want words," Grace said immediately, glancing back to the beautiful scrolls and flames on Logan's ribs. "I figured if I was gonna do this, I'd do it right. Thought I'd just go ahead and get myself a southern slut stamp – you know - the ass invitation tat right across here." She was indicating the area on her back just above those low slung cut off's she had on, remembering tats she'd seen on girls at the beach and bike rallies with Trey. Some were pretty nice, but others weren't, and Grace knew she wanted hers to be something beautiful and completely different – kinda like her Escalade – nothing anybody else had or had even seen before . . . then suddenly she had a thought. "I know exactly what I want," she said suddenly, abruptly walking out of the room toward the bedroom.

Grace came right back and she slid back onto the stool. She was holding Nuada's knife, admiring the gleaming blade as it shimmered and danced beneath the lights. "Can you copy the etchings on this blade?" she asked, showing it to Matthew.

"I'm sure I can . . . may I?" Matthew asked, surprised when Jaus and Glorfindel simultaneously blurted out - no.

Jaus had turned two shades paler – if that was possible – and he came across that kitchen and slammed his hands down so hard on the countertop Grace jumped. "And not just no - Hell no!" he retched furiously. "You've gone insane! Have you forgotten the fucking demon who was in this very house threatening to kill you a while back? Over that damn knife? And now you want the markings off it tattoo'ed across your ass? Do you really want to die that bad, or are you just a glutton for punishment? You might be marrying yourself to that demon for all you know!"

Everybody stared and Grace bristled. "It's a damn knife not a fucking cobra, and if I was scared of it, I wouldn't sleep with it beside my bed!"

Glorfindel's pale brows were knitted together as he tried to offer an alternative. "Pinilyaer, I fear I must agree. If you wish to accompany that spell with a pattern, perhaps an elven design would be complimentary . . . my weapon is engraved with the symbols of House of the Golden Flower, which I was Lord over. You are most welcome to use them . . . or if you would like, I will fetch you a book of elven drawings perhaps? Even take you to the library of Imladris if you wish."

"Nothing personal Fin, but I'm pretty sure Nuada doesn't mind me using his either," Grace answered in a warning tone.

"Pinilyaer, you do not know the . . . the things that creature has involved himself in during the past. I do not doubt that his weapon is linked to a demon so saes, please be reasonable!"

"Nuada's not a fucking creature any more than ya'll are," Grace hissed back, "and I get very tired of hearing him called that."

"What about that?" Matthew suggested, pointing to the puzzle box on the counter. He was trying to find some peaceful middle ground, but quickly realized that was certainly not it when Grace instantly slid that fancy gold ornament across the counter toward her – without touching it – putting her hand on it protectively. Matthew hid his surprise, but he knew that he was into something deep - and that his price just went up exponentially.

He knew the house they were standing in belonged to Jaus, and he couldn't imagine why the vampire was letting a human stay there. He wondered about the obnoxiously expensive sports car parked outside that he somehow knew did not belong to that human because it did not suit the wildness in her eyes. He glanced over at the strange hulking creature on the other side of that kitchen who had yet to take those predatory eyes off him, positive one wrong move from him would result in that creature trying to kill him. He started to walk out, but when those bronze eyes returned to Grace yet again, taking in the dark under eye circles and almost desperate expression, he couldn't. The odd little southern girl was obviously in some type of trouble – she was in danger, or she was hiding from someone . . . and she was asking him to help her do it.

"I'll draw up some designs. I'm sure I can come up with something you'll like," he announced, giving Grace a reassuring nod.

Grace's eyes brightened. "You can do this? You're going to help me?" she drawled out softly.

"Yes ma'am," Matthew answered firmly, nodding to everyone politely, then heading for the door.

Jaus followed, leaving Logan and Grace under the supervision of Glorfindel to get redressed. They were fully clothed again when Jaus returned. "That make you a little happier?" he asked Grace, pleased when he received an affirmative nod. "Well good then, glad he could help. Matthew wants you to go see him Thursday night. I'll tell you where, but for now, we need to get going too."

He passed a very direct look to Logan, who seemed very reluctant to leave, but after a few more glances from Jaus and glares from Glorfindel he folded, gave Grace a quick hug and headed for the door. "We'll check on you later," he called out to her.

The door wasn't even closed before Grace was getting the stare from that elf, and she knew exactly what his next words were going to be. "I will tolerate Matthew's actions because it is a part of him performing a task at your request, but that vampire needs to contain himself!" he growled. "I respect that he is your friend, and that he and his brother are helping you – but let me make something very clear, Pinilyaer . . . I do not care for his aggressive advances toward you. It is improper for a male to act in such a manner toward a female that is obviously bound to another!"

Glorfindel thought she was bound to Nuada? Really? Well better not tell him that she promised that aggressive vampire a date in exchange for meeting Matthew tonight, huh? "Don't sweat it Fin," she told him firmly. "I can handle Logan, you don't have to worry about a thing."

"I fear that is not possible, Pinilyaer, as I am no different in that aspect than Nuada," Glorfindel informed her matter-of-factly. "I will not tolerate any male touching you in that manner so long as you are under my guard . . . a subject I believe it is time we discuss."

"Alright," Grace agreed, lighting a cigarette, positive this would be about as much fun as a root canal.

"I am well aware that you were not sincere in your words to Lord Niall two nights ago. Nuada will always be your guardian, and I do not assume to take his place – I only volunteer to oversee you until he returns, and I have received Lord Elrond's blessings for my choice. Believe my words, that he is most concerned for your safe passage through this situation, as is Haldir . . . and while I know that you are most upset with my marchwarden friend, do not doubt that he worries for you. He was near frantic when I informed him of the situation with these vampires, and he wishes nothing more than to involve himself, but he has refrained – he does not wish to intrude upon you, but never doubt that if you have need of him in any way, Haldir of Lórien stands ready to assist."

He passed Grace a compassionate look across the counter as he came to his feet. "Many people wish you well in this Pinilyaer, but I fear there is only one who can provide you with the comfort you truly desire. I do not know the part Nuada played in what has been done to you, but I do not doubt his feelings for you. He hurts without you, just as you sit across from me now pining for him . . . he told me to give you this message - Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au – You know what that means do you not? He misses you Pinilyaer, so saes, contact Nuada . . . and if Logan returns to this house alone – override that spell on your flesh, and contact me."

Grace nodded obediently, wondering who she'd rather have after her – Glorfindel or Nuada. Seemed like you'd be fucked either way, and she found herself wondering if Logan would be alive when this was over. Keeping the thought to herself, she just politely bid Glorfindel goodnight, watching silently as he disappeared.

The second he was gone, she grabbed hold of that puzzle box like a kid on Christmas morning, her heart racing as she pulled it right over to her face, leaning down to smell it. It seemed like such a strange thing to do, but the scent of Nuada clung to it, and tears burned her eyes as she breathed in the all too familiar and desperately missed scent of the man she loved. With trembling fingers, she unlocked it, her heart warming as she heard the music dancing against the pounding surf outside.

The piece of paper was removed first and laid it aside, then Grace carefully took out the little piece of fabric, wondering what was inside. Her breath stopped when she saw those emeralds throw fire, her mind flooding with thoughts of the way Nuada smiled at her the morning he first saw those earrings in her ears as she sat down beside him on the floor of that study – the same study they sat in, working that puzzle box after she had insulted him – both of them promising the other that they would always be friends, and that nothing would come between them again.

Grace had never been so happy to see a pair of earrings in her life, and she put them in her ears before she dared to unfold the note, terrified of what she might find. Her heart raced as she smoothed every crease, and the moment she had it fully opened, Grace knew that small piece of paper was now her most treasured possession on earth. As unbelievable as it seemed, that five thousand year old creature had copied every last detail of her childish finger drawn markings from the window of that Jaguar, carefully reproducing them on that now precious piece of thick ivory paper.

It was perfect in every detail, but there was only one difference . . . the bottom line now read Nuada loves Erulissë.

That beloved note was carefully tucked back inside the puzzle box and those emerald earrings were glittering in her ears when Grace hit the send button on that new cell phone several hours later. Grace didn't need Glorfindel to tell her to call Nuada. She fought the urge to call him every minute of every day, but that night the urge won. Laying on the beach stretched out in a lounge chair under the stars, Grace couldn't help herself, desperately needing to hear that soft strange accent call her by that strange elf name as only he could.

"Erulissë?" Nuada answered softly.

"Hey Nuada," Grace murmured, "did I interrupt anything?" It was after 12:00am and judging from the time it took Nuada to answer the telephone, Grace worried that he was either in Fangtasia or Crash Mansion and had to get somewhere he could hear the phone before he answered it.

"Mára aurë Erulissë, lau - no you did not interrupt me . . . you will never be an interruption, Erulissë," he assured her firmly. "I am worried for you Lirimaer . . . please tell me you received my gift. Were you pleased?"

His velvety voice sounded oddly thick and heavy, causing Grace to question if he was drunk, and combined with the worries that he was holed up in a bar somewhere, it was enough to give her the shakes. "Where are you? Are you alone?" she suddenly demanded, fleeting images of red hair and pale skin flashing through her mind before she shoved them away.

"I am in the apartment in Shreveport," Nuada answered, surprising her. "Have you already forgotten that it was Sunday? Our night together with Eric and Sookie? They both came Erulissë, and we missed you. Sookie went home a while ago, and I was just walking Eric out to his car as he was leaving."

His words stunned her. With the distraction of Matthew's visit combined with the stress she was under, Grace had not stopped to consider what she would have been doing had she been back home, and her heart broke as she remembered the many wonderful Sunday nights she and Sookie spent making lewd comments as they sat on mats in that third floor gym watching Eric and Nuada work out. It was ritual they'd started soon after she'd taken that impromptu trip to South Carolina, and the memories of them all laughing and joking together threatened to drown her.

"Erulissë, did you get the things I sent?" Nuada prompted, hearing only the soft sounds of ocean waves behind her floating through the phone.

"Yes Nuada, thank you for sending them to me," she told him, the terrible strain she felt sounding in her voice.

"Le hannon Erulissë, thank you for accepting their return," Nuada answered, both relieved and concerned . . . Grace did not sound like herself. "Man mathach? How are you feeling Erulissë - are you well?"

"I'm tired and I'm lonely and I don't understand anything that's happened," Grace confessed, fighting against the torrent of memories that was still flooding her mind. "I want to know what's wrong with me – what's been done to me – and I don't want to work that puzzle box alone. That is our puzzle, our thing that we shared, and you're not here . . . I don't want a god damned knife, or a gold puzzle, or a pair of earring . . . all I have every wanted was . . ."

Her voice broke as it faded away, cutting him to the bone. More than anything he'd ever wanted in his life he wished Grace was standing in front of him now, so he could look into her eyes and talk to her- and he desperately wanted to hear that last word – and he wanted it to be "you".

"My heart breaks the same as yours, Erulissë," he confirmed. "and you do not ever have to work that puzzle box alone. Just say the word and I will be there before you can draw another breath. Let me come to you Erulissë - I swear to the Valar may I be condemned for eternity, I will not tell one soul where you are. I do not intend to hand you over to Niall, I want only to hold you again. To know that you are alright and that we will be together again. I have to know that we will be together again, Erulissë . . . please, I beg you . . . promise me I shall see you again."

Grace stared at the ocean, seeing how beautiful the moonlight was reflecting across is. She wondered what that same moon would look like reflected back at her through two huge emerald green eyes – she felt the warm salt air brush against her skin and knew it would feel so much better if Nuada was sitting in the sand beside her - and managed a soft smile. "We'll be together again Nuada . . . I don't know when, but we will," she finally told him, hearing him let out a huge sigh of relief.

"When, Erulissë?" he insisted. "You are not well, I can hear it in your voice you are not. If you do not wish to tell me where you are, then do what you did before . . . bring me to you . . . think of me or wish for me, or whatever it is that you must do to bring me to your side. I must know that you are alright!" He was pleading with her, literally begging as he paced around and around her truck, his agitation growing by the second. Nuada had never before wanted something he could not have – had never been denied anything – did not know what it was like to be told no. It was a very humbling experience, and it was one he did not like.

"I'm fine and I don't know when," Grace answered honestly, refusing to let her temper flare. "I don't have any idea how I did that, or even if I did do that. Hell, I don't know how you ended up here, and I'm not telling you where here is, so please stop pushing me so hard. I didn't call to argue with you again, Nuada. I called because I wanted to hear your voice and to tell you thank you for sending those things with Glorfindel . . . it means more to me than you could ever know, so please just take that and be satisfied for tonight."

Now she was the one pleading, and Nuada fought to obey her wishes. His voice was haunted when he answered, clearing telling her how difficult this was for him. "You are most welcome, A'maelamin, for the return of your earrings and the puzzle box," he eased out softly. "I hope that my note means as much to you as it did to me, and I pray that you will take the words that I have written to heart. Please forgive me for pushing you . . . I do not wish to argue with you either . . . I only wish to see you again."

"You'll see me again, Nuada," Grace promised, then she hung up the phone.

Nuada held his now silent phone in the hot darkness of a Louisiana parking lot staring at the blue flames running down the side of a Cadillac Escalade like he was in a trance. His hand reached out to touch them, his fingers beginning to gently trace over them, almost of their own accord, silently willing them to notice him – to tell their owner that he would go to her, if she would only allow it.

He seemed so broken as he stood there, and Eric eased up beside his friend, knowing from the half of the conversation he heard things did not go well. "You alright?" he asked gently.

Nuada shook his head. "She misses me, but she is so stubborn. Erulissë will not relent, or tell me where she is."

"If Grace wasn't stubborn, she wouldn't be a damn southern human girl," Eric told him with a chuckle. "But she loves you, and I don't have a single doubt that she's coming back either! And when she does, you better believe I'm gonna watch you give her that ring I saw tonight . . . and don't think you aren't taking me on a tour of that house either! And just let me guess, it's that monster going up on the lot next to mine?"

Nuada turned to look at Eric, appreciating his assurances. The vampire was a true friend, and he managed to pass him a sly smile. "It's bigger than yours, I made sure of it."

Eric smiled back. "I'll put on an addition. Grace can design it when she gets back, now get your ass in the car. We're going to see it."

They were laughing together when that red Corvette went tearing out of the parking lot, but on South Padre Island Grace sure wasn't. She was a nervous wreck when she collapsed into the comfort of softly worn denim and cool white cotton, her muddled mind consumed by thoughts of Nuada and how very much she missed him. Grace wished more than anything she would wake up next to Nuada as she drifted off to sleep - and how was she to know, that sometimes . . . just sometimes . . . dreams do come true.


	47. Enchanted Dreams

Chapter 47 – Enchanted Dreams

Impressing Eric Northman was a very difficult thing to do, but Nuada managed to do it twice in one night – first with that exotic engagement ring and second with that extraordinary house he was building for Grace. The two friends spent well over an hour wandering the rooms in a relaxed inspection before they finally bid one another good night, but the very instant the taillights of that Corvette faded into the night, Nuada traced himself away in a furor. There were two extremely important things he intended to accomplish yet this night, and he intended to begin immediately.

Evaporating off the front lawn of what he intended to be his new home, Nuada reappeared in Nárthea, planting himself on the westernmost edge of Tír na nÓg, square in the middle of Arvellon - pixie territory. "Prince Fosster!" he called loudly, over and over again.

His loud cries drew immediate attention, and soon a hoard of small shimmering winged creatures peered at Nuada from every available nook and cranny of the surrounding bushes, rocks and trees, all waiting to see what that mercenary wanted with one of their royalty. They were well aware of how Nuada felt about them, and no way were they coming out – but they sure were going to watch!

Within moments, tiny sparkles of pixie dust began floating down onto Nuada's head, shimmering as they caught the moonlight then dusted the leaves around his feet. Fosster's wings made the softest humming sound as he descended from the trees, coming to hover just in front of Nuada's face. Savan had done an excellent job erasing the Prince's memory of that terrible incident in the LA conference room - the only thing he recalled was offering his assistance to Lord Niall in finding Grace, then returning home.

"Suilannon achen, Prince Fosster. How are you this evening?" Nuada said politely, internally laughing his ass off as he remembered how that pixie's naked little green body had looked sprawled out on that table. "You have offered your assistance in locating the great-granddaughter of Lord Niall, and I am here to claim it."

The pixie hovered in front of him, crossing tiny viridian arms over his chest as he stared at Nuada. He did not like or trust the guardian, but he could not deny any request that involved Lord Niall. "Yes?" he replied in a tiny squeak, glitter dusted amethyst eyes narrowing slightly.

"An object was taken to the missing girl earlier this night. I laced it with some of your pixie dust, and I need you to take me to it," Nuada answered.

Prince Fosster floated down to perch himself on a nearby branch. His eyes had narrowed to evil slits, and his tiny wings were vibrating wildly. "How did you get my pixie dust? How dare you!"

The pixie was obviously deeply offended, but Nuada knew the way to Fosster's heart was through his ego, and he would gladly stroke the little bug's hot spot to get what he wanted out of him. "Pixie dust is readily available for purchase at the troll markets Fosster, and I know you are aware of that . . . but royal dust such as yours is quite rare and by far the most costly . . . and I hear well worth the price since it is professed to be the most powerful. You would not believe what I had to pay to get it," Nuada lied, complimenting him. He did not pay one cent for that pixie dust, nor did it come from the troll market – he collected it from the conference table in Los Angeles after their . . . encounter.

Thankfully, Fosster had no recollection of that "encounter" and he puffed out his little bare chest, beaming with pride. "I will gladly offer any possible assistance to Lord Niall . . . and you are correct, I am the best tracker of all the pixies," he boasted, chirping with pleasure. "Very well . . . give me a moment."

He leapt from the branch, flinging himself through the air with wild abandon, twirling around and around while wild trails of scintillating dust flew off him. Soon a cloud of metallic rainbow swirls filled the air, and Fosster came to hover in the midst of it, carefully studying the various reflections he received from the sparkling particles. He saw nothing pertaining to the human girl, and his tiny face frumped into a frown. He tried again – and yet again – finally reluctantly confessing his defeat. "I see nothing of her, Nuada," he said, perplexed. "Are you positive the dust was my own?"

"Mae, yes it was," Nuada assured him, his own face falling into a frown. There was absolutely no doubt what pixie it was taken from - he personally shook it off him! Snorting out a disgusted breath, he caught some of the dust from the air on his hand, rubbing it between his fingers. The magic in the powder was palpable, and Nuada knew that was not the problem. Could Gandalf's magic ring Grace had hold of somehow be blocking it? He was positive it could not – which was the very reason he planted pixie dust in that puzzle box!

Fosster began to snap out disgusted little tweets and strange, chirped orders as he sank to the forest floor, snatching up a large cupped leaf. At his command, several more pixies appeared, darting from their hiding places to bring him a teensie cup of morning dew, juice from a ripe plum, and the tufts of a dandelion. Each was thrown into that leaf, and Fosster himself added a pinch of his pixie dust, muttering sacred spells as he did. When the last delicate hum crossed his lips a tiny puff of smoke flew from the leaf in his hands and Fosster smiled up at Nuada. Pixies were obsessive little creatures, and no way in hell did that one intend to fail in such an important task!

"The spell is cast. Fear not! A connection to the girl will be made, and I will be there like that," he proclaimed, snapping his tiny little fingers.

Nuada marveled at his ingenuity, but offered a stern warning as well. "Many thanks, Prince Fosster. The moment you locate that object, call for me. I warn you - do not approach Erulissë yourself. She would not take kindly to it, I am positive."

Fosster only nodded vaguely as he returned to the air, tracing back and forth through the fading cloud. Nuada was positive the little creature would not stop until he located the dust he planted on that puzzle box, so chuckling softly, he left the pixie to his work, hopeful that he would hear from him soon.

Nuada's smile faded when he traced out of Nárthea. He did not reappear in Shreveport, nor did he return to the earth realm at all. He transported himself to a place he affectionately called Lovíriel, a beautiful sanctuary nestled deep in the elven world known to no other where Nuada sought refuge millennia past after escaping a decade of torture at the hands of the Nameless Ones. The place evoked both terrible and peaceful memories, and he stood in the silent darkness for a moment, allowing himself to recollect.

A beautiful pool stretched out before him, healing water clear as glass bursting from a spring deep in the earth, a rich cerulean blue whose white bubbles swirled over boulders of tumbled basalt. Had the sun been up, three rainbows would have shown over the immaculate cleft of high, snow-covered mountains. They bound the farthest edges of elven lands, deep within the folds of this secret valley where he now stood. Crisp, cool air unpolluted by any toxin hung heavy with the scent of nature, lush grass crushed beneath his feet releasing the faintest whiff of familiarity, complimenting the thick scent of wisteria and wildflowers.

That smell would forever be a comforting thing, as were the smooth stones beneath his feet when he made his way around the pool, ducking beneath the waterfall at the far end to head down the tunnel behind. A large cavern lingered at the end, and Nuada went to the far side. He spent many years in this place, recovering from the wounds he received so long ago, taking time to heal his body and spirit after such an ordeal. It was here that his love for the blade had been born, here that his determination to become the best guardian and mercenary in existence was founded, and here that his most sacred possessions were hidden.

His hands found their way along the grooved edge of a particularly large rock, easing against a stone hidden there so many centuries past. It took a moment to work it loose, years of accumulated grime cementing it in place, but with the correct amount of pressure it gave, revealing a large opening in the wall. Every item in that carefully concealed cache was precious and intimate to him, holding great sentimental value, and he felt a great sense of reverence as he withdrew a small black book.

The presence of a dark realm book of spells in the elven realm was sheer sacrilege, an unconscionable insult to the very ones that had allowed him refuge in these lands, but Nuada had not cared when he originally brought it to this place, nor did he care now. That small black book had prepared him for travel to the Dark Realm to be trained as a warrior by Thamuz, and he had spent countless hours studying, learning and mastering the magical incantations on those ancient stiff yellow pages. That book was the key that had unlocked a different existence for him, and as Nuada now stood holding it, he had accomplished every goal he set out to. He was a revered guardian, one of the most feared Dark Realm Warriors - he knew sleep spells, could wrap himself in the very shadows themselves, had the ability to conjure items that he had seen before, even knew how to shatter a person's memories into bits - but there was one small section in that book he never dared to read, and that section was the reason he was here. Just as that sacred book of dark spells had opened a portal to another world for Nuada so many centuries ago, he prayed that it would yet again yield its secrets to him and help to achieve his final goal – to claim the woman he loved. Carefully, he replaced the stone, erasing all traces of his presence before popping himself back to his penthouse in Los Angeles.

 _"Dark Law binds me, same as you. No warrior touches what belongs to another," the demon replied harshly. "But while I will accept your word this night, I warn you Amarande Nuada Karayane . . . if you claim that female as your mate, you will take her properly or the vow will not be honored again."_

The words of Thamuz rang through his mind as Nuada rolled up the rug in his bedroom and shoved it aside, revealing a collection of large black symbols etched into the floor. An important aspect of his necromancy, they glittered like diamonds, casting a spectral crimson glow against the darkness as Nuada smiled softly and dropped to the floor, sinking cross legged into the very midst of those symbols, their scarlet glow intensifying when he cracked open the heavy leather bindings of the spell book, the very letters on the pages burning deep red, glowing like fire against the pale amber of ancient parchment. Elegant alabaster fingers traced with an odd mixture of white and red flames as he turned the stiff pages, emerald eyes burning as red as the writing they devoured, an ancient mind committing every letter and word to memory.

Never in all his days had Nuada imagined he would be studying the Dark Realm Spells of Binding. He had spent millennia using the spells in that book to accomplish heinous goals – he had tortured, lied, stolen and killed, but never had he dreamed he would fully succumb to the temptation being a child of the darkness offered – for love. His entire existence had been devoted to denying that part of his heritage, but for the first time in over five thousand years, Nuada intended to take full advantage of his ability to coerce and to caress, to lie and to possess. He was going to fully embrace every single thing that being a creature of the dark realm offered – and he was going to claim Grace as his own.

He smiled softly as he turned the page, but soon frowned when he realized this might prove to be a more difficult task than he imagined. To mark Grace as a warrior's slave would have taken mere seconds, but that was absolutely not an option. Nuada intended to claim Grace as his life mate, and for that, it was going to require three separate incantations rendered on three separate occasions. He needed a lock of her hair, a drop of her blood, and to complete the bond, she was going to have to willingly agree to it – Grace would have to say his full name three times – but once she did, their souls would be bound for eternity. The trick was going to be getting her to agree.

Nuada had committed every word and necessary action to memory before he slid the control down on the thermostat and collapsed into a massive pile of opulent silk and velvet, porcelain flesh showing up in stark reveal against soothing tones of umber, sangria and cinnabar, his body emanating an odd warmth that he yearned to share. Thick blond lashes brushed over burning emerald eyes still licked by red flames as he stared into the darkness, fingering the silk edges of a pillowcase as he fantasized of how Grace would look stretched out beside him until he finally drifted into a miserable and restless slumber.

His body yearned for her comforting touch and Nuada began to dream, the gentle hum of cold air seeping from the vents at some point exchanging itself for the lulling rhythm of ocean waves, that soothing sound washing over him just as the warm and delicate touch of her aura was creeping across his flesh, carefully forcing every part of his soul away from the chill that held grip of it for so very long. Warm delicate fingertips ghosted along his flesh, searching their way across every muscular groove, causing his breath to hitch as they slipped from rib to rib in a slow torturous adventure. The teasing touches feathered across the ridge of an exposed collarbone, softly brushing satin strands of blonde hair glimmering in the moonlight away from the perfect curve of a neck begging to be kissed.

Deep breaths sucked through parted lips forced lonely flesh to ripple in anticipation, a flat stomach stretched taut between two hipbones tensing with need as damp heat worked its way against satiny skin. The softest moan slipping from his mouth as familiar fingers found their way into a mass of silky strands, raking along his scalp to drag down the breadth of his shoulders and trace down his arms. Of their own accord, his hands responded, slowly making their way to graze smooth skin tanned dark by the sun, and Nuada knew if this was a dream, it was the most fantastic one he had ever experienced – a sweet, erotic torture of a whole different sort.

Grace was slight of form and her weight was nothing against him, although it was almost as if he could feel her body grinding against him. The intoxicating smell of tangerines and flowers crept into the outer edges of his dreams as Nuada slipped into pure mental bliss. He could feel his heart pounding as teasing fingertips traced his thighs, writhing slightly as sharp sensations too long denied reminded him of a lover's touch and a guttural growl escaped him, a soft primal purr like a feasting predator as the pressure of tormenting hands found their way to the center of his body.

Once again, Grace's mind had been working overtime, and once again, her remarkable new prowess for male metaphysical manipulation had yielded amazing results. Just as Nuada had fallen asleep miserable and alone in Los Angeles, so had Grace on South Padre Island, each one silently crying out for the other, clamoring for the one they loved. Together, they had begun to dream, and when Grace subconsciously demanded the comfort of those strong porcelain arms around her, suddenly they were there. Two physically and emotionally exhausted creatures hungry for the other had joined in the night, instinctively responding to the other's pleas, and while neither of them had been aware of it, Grace and Nuada were sharing the same bed.

As warm determined fingers slowly caressed the length of him, startled eyes snapped open, and Nuada realized his perfect dream was a perfect reality. The delicate scent of Grace that teased his senses was real, savory particles of temptation drifting on unfamiliar air – salt air filled with the spray of ocean swells floating through the open windows – and as that stunned creature took a careful look around, Nuada quickly realized he was no longer in his Los Angeles penthouse. He had once again been unsuspectingly relocated to Grace's clandestine hiding place - only Grace was not hiding. Just as she had so many other mornings, Grace was sprawled out asleep on top of him like a contented house cat. That pretty little head was nuzzled right under his chin while a deeply tanned leg nestled tight between his own, every inch of her barely clad body wantonly pressed against his. One hand was meandering through that tangled nest of long blond hair, while the other had assumed a wonderful and familiar place, brazenly shoved into the depths of those black silk pajamas.

It was the realization of his perfect fantasy, but it was also extraordinarily dangerous, and Nuada fought back a frenzy of pent up emotions as hungry eyes feasted on her flesh. Fresh off hours of studying dark realm spells, Nuada was boiling with black magic and lurid thoughts, and he'd fallen asleep to wildly erotic dreams – dreams fed by his already burning desire for Grace, coupled with memories of the salacious games they played, topped off by her lascivious knife antics. The rapturous combination had sharpened his needs to a razor edge, and Nuada feared there was not one wisp of self-control left in his being – but he knew if he unleashed himself on that fragile mortal in his arms she would never survive it – so as much as he wanted to take every single advantage of the sexual pleasures being laid out before him, he steeled himself. If he kept control of his faculties, he could take advantage of the unbelievable opportunity he was being presented with and accomplish his ultimate goal – to figure out where Grace was hiding and claim that human as his own, and then he could make love to her forever.

His heart soared as his arms pulled her closer, his face nuzzling into the soft tendrils of her hair, his lips finding their way to brush a feathery kiss along her temple, and when she responded by snuggling that much closer Nuada felt his throat tighten with emotion. His self control had never been in question – never – but when he was around Grace it seemed to instantly shatter, and in that moment he would have moved the moon and stars just to have her speak to him again. "Le i veleth o chuil nîn - you are the love of my life, Erulissë . . . and I am going to have you," he whispered, his breath hot as he continued to murmur a sleep spell in her ear.

The rise and fall of her chest came in a slow and simple rhythm, so Nuada reluctantly slid her hands away and eased into a sitting position, shimmering scarlet eyes carefully taking stock of his surroundings as he considered his next move. His first discovery? The thrill of finding his war blade glistening on the night stand. Olótëare had not responded to him once since Grace had taken possession of it, and a faint smile tugged at Nuada's lips at the sight of his most beloved weapon. He immediately commanded it to his hand, only to find himself absolutely stunned when even from two feet away he could not force the knife to budge. It frustrated him to no end - just as the fact that he had been unable to retrace his path to her and reclaim that blade had been agitating him for some two weeks now – so he decided to do a little test.

Curious to discover exactly how much control his telekinetic lover exerted over him, Nuada clutched her sleeping form against him and attempted to transport them back to his LA penthouse. Nothing happened. He tried again, this time striving for Shreveport. Again, nothing. Even shifting them across the bed was impossible, and Nuada came to the stark realization that Grace not only seemed capable of summoning him on command, but that she could effectively hold him hostage as well! It seemed his human hybrid lover was a far better-equipped adversary than he gave her credit for, and Nuada found himself surprisingly suffering a moment's admiration for Grace. This was proving to be one unbelievably intriguing game of hide and seek they were playing, but he was playing to win, and far from acquiescing defeat. The ages old mercenary and guardian would simply have to be a bit more creative to accomplish his goals.

Positive Gandalf's cursed magical ring was not only responsible for keeping him from his most coveted goal of discovering her hiding place, but also somehow granting Grace the ability to manipulate his own flesh, Nuada decided the next logical step was to remove it from her hand. He would remove the barrier standing between them and search her mind – and if that didn't work, he would simply get out of that bed and ransack the house. He would tear out the very walls if necessary, but rest assured, Amarande Nuada did not intend to leave until he figured out just where in Texas Grace was hiding.

As his hands went searching for hers, Nuada found himself suddenly breathless with anticipation at the mere thought of a permanent reunion with Grace, and he actually trembled with excitement as his fingers intertwined with hers, searching and finally making the blessed discovery that the hand in his hair was bestowed with that ring. Nuada knew there had been times in the past when Grace had broken through sleep spells, so he did not simply snatch the ring from her hand and risk waking her – not when there were other more pleasant ways to remove it instead. He had taken careful note of each and every single thing Grace liked during their games of sexual exploration, and he knew there were much more pleasant ways to get what he wanted.

Nuada's pulse quickened as his nose traced along her palm, warm breath teasing her skin as his tongue softly swirled between each of her fingers in turn, savoring the very taste of sunshine and sand that seeped through his mouth. With rousing skill, he sucked and teased, drawing a faint purr of contentment from her lips. That tempting sound crept up down his spine, daring his flesh to listen as he continued to pull one finger after another deep into his mouth, languishing over each one. Finally, he reached her thumb, and she did little more than groan in delight and rake the fingernails of her free hand down his side when Nuada caught the ring between his teeth and pulled it free.

Quickly, he collected it from his lips and discarded it to the night stand, but two most unexpected things became instantly apparent. First, when he reached out to Grace's mind, he still got nothing but air. Nuada had no way to know that while it had been a quite stimulating task to remove it, Grace still had that blocking spell written down her leg in black sharpie marker - he could have flushed that ring down the toilet and it wouldn't have made a difference.

The second thing that became rapidly apparent, was that his sleep spell had been a complete waste of breath, because Grace was beginning to stir. The hand she raked down his side never stopped and Nuada's pulse quickened as her fingers retraced their earlier path, skimming the planes of his stomach as they headed back south. Seconds later, that devious little hand slid into the waist of his pajama bottoms yet again, throwing Nuada's heart into his throat as all ideas of getting out of that bed to search evaporated.

Throwing caution to the wind, instinct and desperation took over and his hand darted to the night stand, closing around the all too familiar handle of Olótëare. He fully expected Grace to throw him back to Los Angeles when she fully woke, and he was absolutely damned and determined that he would accomplish something during this unexpected visit so he quickly severed a piece of her hair then sliced open a fingertip before slapping the knife back down on the table. It fell from his grip just as Grace's head shifted across his body and she began to nuzzle her mouth against the flesh of his neck.

Nuada's breath shortened dramatically when her lips began to nibble along the edge of his chin and head toward his ear, and he found himself both praying she would stop and praying she would continue as he fought to concentrate on his task. She was just beginning to suck on his earlobe when he rubbed the blood from his finger over the hairs in his palm, and his fist closed just as her tongue traced over the sensitive tip of his ear. He could not help the soft groan it pulled from his lips, and she let out a provocative sigh in return. A soft, sensual sound eased out in the form of a seductive moan, and his name came next. "Mmmmmm . . . Nuada please," she murmured, almost as if she were giving him permission to take her, and that was one invitation Nuada intended to accept.

The three dark realm binding spells corresponded to the three parts of Grace he was laying claim to – body, mind and soul. That lock of hair represented her body, and as Nuada held it clutched in his hand he wrapped his other arm tight around her and began to softly chant the first of the magical incantations, drawing the shadows around them as his soft lilting voice came to float around the room. The sound of the ocean faded into the distance, the breeze no longer moved against the curtains, and the very night itself stopped to listen.

Grace felt as if she were being sucked into a vacuum, incapable of moving as everything faded to complete darkness outside of the singular scent of leather and spices along with the comforting presence of warm silky skin. She was dimly aware of Nuada's voice circling through her head, repeating itself again and again, but as the blood and hairs burned their way into the flesh of Nuada's palm, suddenly everything exploded.

That elven blocking spell on Grace's leg might be able to ward off a simple elven sleep spell. It was even strong enough to keep Nuada out of her thoughts and keep her location hidden, but it meant absolutely nothing against the full blown power of a black magic binding spell being commanded by one of the most powerful dark realm warriors in existence.

Like water being poured down the throat of a dying creature, the strange white flames of Nuada's aura raced across her skin, flinging themselves across her body to seep into her very bones. Erotic heat poured through her like warm honey, thick and smooth, delicious and tempting, teasing every inch of her body awake. It felt as if Nuada himself was sliding through her veins, massaging every molecule in turn, pleasing and speaking to her flesh itself.

It was the most sensual and stimulating sensation Grace had ever experienced, and her startled grey eyes flew open. They were met by a pair of glowing crimson ones set in an all too familiar face staring back at her in the dim moonlight, and Grace caught her breath. It was not how anyone expects to wake, and it took a moment for reality to take hold – and it was a reality Grace's muddled mind could hardly comprehend. Simultaneously assaulted by a barrage of conflicting emotions . . . desire - comfort – terror – love – fear . . . Grace could do little more than stare up at Nuada's face in disbelief, and he took advantage of the moment to speak to her, his voice soothing and tender in the complete stillness of the room.

"Shhhhh . . . do not be frightened, Erulissë and please do not send me away," Nuada whispered softly. "I would never harm you Erulissë, you must believe that."

Unfortunately, Grace was frightened – scared shitless to be more exact – and she didn't know what she believed at that particular moment. Instinctively, she tried to toss Nuada back from wherever he managed to come from, but she accomplished nothing. Grace herself was anchoring him in that room, and Nuada instantly realized that fact. So long as he was touching her, she could send him nowhere and it thrilled him to know that he would actually get the opportunity to speak with her – so long as he didn't let go of her - although this was certainly not the way he intended for their next face to face conversation to take place.

It wasn't the way Grace intended it to take place either, and when she came to the startled realization she couldn't force Nuada to disappear, she instinctively tried to scramble away from him, once again consumed by the singular thought of escape. That was absolutely not going to happen, because Nuada stopped her instantly, dragging her back then holding her down as gently as possible. Crawling over her, he straddled her waist, his thumbs tracing soothing circles against her palms as he held her wrists and began to murmur gentle elven sentiments of affection under his breath.

His lyrical voice sounded very much as it had in her dream, echoing around and around in her head as Grace fought to figure out what was happening. Her pulse raced, the rapid rise and fall of her chest telling Nuada she was about to panic, that his mere presence was pushing her to the farthest limits of her mental endurance. For a split second, he wondered if it would be better to simply walk away in lieu of upsetting her farther and causing more tension between them . . . but then he reminded himself just how he came to be in that room.

"Erulissë, please calm yourself and allow me to speak with you," he pleaded gently. "You yourself are responsible for this – you have done as I asked on the telephone and brought me to your side this night. In your heart, you must wish to see me as I have wished to see you."

Grace lay beneath him, trying to wake up, panting for air and struggling to figure out what the hell to do now. She could not deny how desperately she had wished to have Nuada with her earlier that night, but wishing and receiving were two very different things, and his actual presence was as terrifying as it was tempting. She trembled, remaining silent as her rapidly darkening eyes studied the beautiful creature now holding her captive. His dominating position over her infuriated her to no end, and she stared into that pale face glowing in the flickering moonlight almost as if she'd seen a ghost.

Her questioning eyes reflected strange dancing images of red, and Nuada suddenly became cognizant of the fact that his eyes still burned with crimson flames. His face clouded as he quickly looked away, his voice painful as he sought to reassure her. "Goheno nin, saes, please forgive me if I have frightened you, Lirimaer," he told her in a painful tone. "On my life, I would never harm you, Erulissë. I wish nothing more than to have a civil conversation if you will allow it."

"Are you here to take me back to that place?" Grace finally whispered in a shaking voice.

Her fear and mistrust tore Nuada apart, and he sought to reassure her, all while keeping a careful hold on her body. He was positive if he loosed his grip at all, he would be gone within seconds. "No, Meleth nín," Nuada professed. "I shall never again take you to that place without your knowledge and consent."

It was a shocking promise to hear coming out of Nuada's mouth, and Grace could not stop the pounding of her heart threatening to choke her after she heard the words. Her mind immediately returned to his staggering confessions in the conference room of that LA office. Could he be telling the truth? "Well why are your eyes red?" Grace asked uncertainly. "It's because you're so mad at me isn't it? They were like that in Los Angeles, too . . . you hate me for all this don't you?"

The word hate tore through Nuada like a knife, and his heart fell. "Please do not think that I could ever hate you, Erulissë. I love you, and I am not so angry with you as I am at this situation I find myself trapped in . . . my eyes burn for the pain I feel, A'maelamin. I hurt without you," he confessed sadly, still refusing to meet her gaze. Feeling her strain against his grip, Nuada reluctantly released one of her hands, fully expecting Grace to slap him, and he found himself stunned when she reached up to run hesitant fingers along his cheek.

Grace could not believe this was actually happening, but the heat of his flesh against her fingertips proved it absolutely was, as did the pain in her heart from hearing the undisguised suffering in his voice. It reminded her of the desperation that echoed across the hall at Facility Four when Nuada cried out to her, and she could not help the overwhelming feeling of compassion and protectiveness that suddenly enveloped her. Nothing could draw a faster reaction from Grace than knowing Nuada was hurting, and without even being aware of it, Grace immediately began to pull the sorrow and pain from Nuada's very soul, those delicate blue flames caressing his entire body as they touched.

The kindness Grace offered him - even under these peculiar circumstances – provided an unparalleled comfort and when Nuada lifted his thick blond lashes to peer at her cautiously, those remarkable emerald green eyes were restored. Grace was still studying him intently, yet she seemed to be adjusting to his presence, and as she continued to stroke her fingertips along his cheek the concern on his beautiful face faded, gently replaced by contentment and joy. Soon he found his mouth turning upward in a soft smile of relief, and he was overwhelmed when she actually offered him the vaguest hint of one in return.

Locations and information forgotten, Nuada sank to the mattress beside her, quickly gathering Grace as close as possible, silently praying this was real. The very feel of her flesh against his was overwhelming, and Nuada was hardly able to keep his breathing even he was so grateful to have this warm human woman back in his arms again. "Annon gur nîn achen . . . You own my heart, Erulissë," he whispered, brushing the gentlest of kisses against the top of her head. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to savor the scent of her hair, the feel of the short strands grazing the flesh of his nose, the heat of her flesh as it seeped through his very pores reminding him of the hold this girl held over him.

Murmuring elven sentiments of affection under his breath, Nuada absently stroked her body and Grace could feel the heat of those blue tremors running under her skin growing brighter and hotter in response. Seemed an unexpected side effect of that binding spell was a period of intense sexual stimulation, and within minutes her hands were reciprocating - flowing freely over alabaster flesh as the heat of that enchantment spell returned with a vengeance. The longer she lay in Nuada's arms, the more she found herself wanting nothing more than for this wonderful feeling of completion to never end. She wanted Nuada to put his hands on every inch of her and to never, ever stop.

"God this feels good, Nuada," Grace murmured almost to herself, her lips finding their way to brush a lingering kiss against his shoulder. "I don't know what you did a few minutes ago, but I liked it."

Nuada liked it too, and Grace wasn't the only one who was feeling the heat of that binding spell. Her guardian was just trying to restrain himself, but the second those words left her lips, his mouth covered them, that hot sweet wetness providing an irresistible temptation to the man who missed her. It seemed like eternity since he tasted her mouth against his, and soon those velvety lips were enjoying a torturous exploration of the human woman who tasted like sunshine, the woman he loved. When Nuada finally lifted his mouth from hers, his warm breath lingered against her flesh. "I am so very glad to hear that you were pleased earlier, Erulissë . . . and there are many more pleasures I will give you if you will allow me, Lirimaer."

Growing hotter by the second from that dark spell incantation, Grace said nothing in reply. She simply slid on top of him, offering herself to Nuada as she had so many months before. Long tendrils of sunlit hair soon flowed through her fingers as she began to very purposefully rub against the hardened length pressing through the thin silk of those pajama pants, her nipples raking along his chest through the thin fabric of her top as her hands stroked their way up and down his ribs.

Grace was using her entire body to remind Nuada of her touch, but he did not need to be reminded of anything. Amarande Nuada knew exactly how much he wanted that human. "Erulissë . . ." he groaned, fighting for control as he writhed beneath her.

"Make love to me the way you promised," Grace answered. Her demanding hands were already pulling at the waist of those pants, ten fingers of tantalizing promises pushing that silk out of her way as she intentionally ground herself against him, daring Nuada to remember what he had walked away from.

The rapturous groan was more intense that time, but his hands caught hers, their fingers intertwining as he stopped her progress. Confusion was evident on her face as she searched his for an explanation, and Nuada's face clouded as tears began to shine in her eyes. Desperation competed with desire in his strained voice when he sought to explain. "I would give you anything Erulissë, you have only ask it . . . but to share my flesh with you is the one thing that is simply not possible."

Grace froze over him for a moment, the heat in her eyes chilling to a frigid glare as she snatched away from him, sitting up in the bed as she snarled under her breath. "Well if you think you're gonna take your ass back to that fucking whore's couch, you've got another god damned thing coming!"

Careful to maintain contact in fear of finding himself tossed back to Los Angeles, Nuada immediately stopped her. To have a woman love him and desire to keep him only for herself was not a feeling Amarande Nuada had ever known before meeting Grace, and as peculiar as it was, true warmth filled his soul as her words washed over him. Grace was furious – literally seething with jealously - and it thrilled Nuada to the very pits of his soul. He had waited so long to hear that soft southern drawl say something - anything - to let him know that her love remained and that she still cared for him. Dragging her into his arms, he showered her with little kisses. "A'maelamin Erulissë, you surprise me yet again. Stop this nonsense . . . I belong to you and you alone! You must allow me the chance to explain," he insisted.

"Why? You don't want me," Grace bit back, determined to ignore both him and the overwhelming sexual need that was devouring her even as she turned her face away so he could not see her tears.

"Never have I wanted anything more than to join with you again," Nuada told her firmly, taking her hand in his and brazenly pressing it against the pronounced bulge in his pants. "I make no attempts to hide the desire I feel for you, Erulissë, but you must recognize that what we want is sometimes not so simple. These are the very things I attempted to explain to Sookie earlier this night. I fear she failed to understand as well."

The feel of his flesh throbbing in her hand was enough to make her head swim and her thighs ache from emptiness, and Grace reluctantly turned to look at Nuada, finding him staring at her with such adoration on his face that her heart skipped a beat. "What did you tell Sookie tonight?" she asked.

"The exact same thing I will tell you now, Erulissë," he offered gently. "That I am a very powerful and ancient immortal creature who can easily harm or kill a fragile mortal such as yourself with the power I possess."

Grace caught her breath as an involuntary tear slid down her cheek. "What are you telling me?" she managed to choke out. "That we can't ever sleep together again?"

Leaning closer, Nuada kissed that tear away then clasped her hands in his, pulling them up and pressing them to his chest. He studied her face as he allowed the white fire that ran beneath his flesh to flame beneath her touch. "There is no need for tears, Erulissë – you misunderstand," he told her soothingly. "That is absolutely not what I am telling you. Saes, look at your hands – feel my flesh. Do you see the fire you draw from me, melethril nín? Just as you can bring harm to another with the flames of your spirit, so can I – and I fear the desire and need I feel for you burns so hot I cannot control it. If I allow myself to possess you, I fear I will lose myself to the moment . . . but that does not mean that I do not desire you, nor does it mean that we shall never share ourselves with one another again. It simply means that things between us must change a bit first. I am telling you nothing more than the bond between us must be deepened before we can join again."

Grace's dark brows knitted as she stared at the lightning dancing across the muscles of his chest in wonder, amazed at the sight of them flinging themselves against the darkness of that room. She had noticed the strange white traces when their auras had bound in times past, but never had she recognized that Nuada seemed to possess the same fire that she did; and he not only possessed it – it seemed to burn on an infinitely deeper level - appearing almost as if his entire body glowed, and she found herself suddenly feeling very frightened again.

Nuada felt the tension growing in Grace, and he gathered her tight against him, offering a reassuring smile. "Never fear me, Erulissë. I have made mistakes in the past, but they will never be repeated. Saes, please trust me when I tell you that I wish nothing more than to share myself with you in every way and that I will never harm you. I confess the sensations you felt earlier this night were my doing – the first step in me sharing myself with you - so now you must tell me, was it unpleasant, Lirimaer? Or is this acceptable to you? Might the bonds between us please be allowed to grow? For I wish nothing more than to belong to you in every way, and I swear once I do, I will bring you more pleasure than you have ever known."

Grace sat on the bed fighting against an information and sensory overload. The feeling she woke up to was absolutely fantastic – the sensations creeping through her body at that very second were carnal and delicious – but even the vaguest hint of anyone doing anything to her that she wasn't fully aware of was little short of a declaration of war at this point in the game, and warning flames instinctively flared in the depths of her darkened grey eyes. She honesty did not understand what Nuada was trying to explain to her, and combined with everything else that had been thrown at her over these past two weeks it was a little too much to take in.

Seeing the confusion on her face, Nuada tipped her chin and looked at her intently. "Do not be confused, Erulissë," he whispered in a sultry tone. "Just let me love you."

He captured her mouth in a kiss that threatened to consume her, and Grace felt herself drowning in it as everything he said faded away, replaced by the engulfing heat of that enchantment spell. Her entire universe was reduced to no more than his presence when careful yet commanding hands gently pulled off her tank top, then pressed her down onto that bed, slowly stroking her as they held her in place. Craving fingers began to explore silky and inviting skin, igniting pure red fire in the depths of Nuada's eyes, and Grace could feel the answering heat roaring through her veins. Her heart threatened to explode with every beat, her body trembled at the mere thought of the pleasure he could bring, and Grace knew Nuada could never belong to her more completely than she belonged to him.

Eyes glazed with passion smoldered her a look that melted her very bones when Nuada covered her body with his, bare chest to bare chest, the scent of leather and dark spices filling her nose while the bonding of their auras caressed her very soul. Again his mouth claimed hers, his tongue making love to her mouth as his hands began to make love to her body, pale fingers with unfathomable experience exploring her. One hand made its way to gently circle and tease her nipple into a hardened nub just waiting to be licked, while the other had made its way to trace along the back of her thigh, running up the length of her body to cage her ribs then join in on the other side. Together, Nuada's hands worked rhythmically against her, filling every sense with his very essence, erasing all coherent thought from her mind, leaving nothing but a blank canvas, waiting for instructions.

Grace moaned in protest when he pulled his mouth from hers, her breathing ragged as he turned to the flesh of her ear. Perfect teeth surrounded by heated lips captured her earlobe, a tongue teasing and tormenting the delicate folds of her ear until she writhed beneath him. Hot breath felt cool against the dampness of her flesh when he whispered in that ear, interspersing his words with gentle kisses and continued torturous administrations. "Erulissë, I may not be able to join with you, but I will bring you limitless pleasure and unimaginable indulgence this night if you will allow it . . . simply tell me, what do you wish me to do."

"Nuada . . . please . . . no more games," Grace murmured, her mind so consumed by lust she could hardly think.

Those words brought a devilish smile to Nuada's face. He might not be capable of fully possessing Grace yet, but tonight he had come one huge step closer. He was not interested in playing games at this juncture either, but he fully intended to wring his name from her lips before this night was over, and Nuada could absolutely promise Grace that the flush he intended to put on her skin would be one hell of a lot brighter than the one Logan put there. If Grace wanted nothing but him, then by god that is exactly what Grace would get, but that didn't mean he didn't want something in return, because Nuada most certainly did - he wanted to know where they were.

Slipping down her body, Nuada's mouth immediately filled itself with a pert mound of bare flesh, teeth carefully nipping as a teasing tongue flicked across her nipple again and again before finally pulling the swollen peak into the heat of his mouth. Silky tendrils of hair tickled her flesh every time he shifted, and Grace sighed in pleasure, burying her hands in it as she tried to force his head closer. His hand was tormenting her other breast, gently pinching and rolling the hardened nub on the other side, while the other hand had dramatically wandered to now rest firmly between her legs. That hand was teasing at an entirely different nub as Nuada worked the palm of his hand against her through the thin lace of her panties.

Grace soon found herself overcome by the sensations he was running through her body, and she groaned against him with every movement, amazed by his manipulative touches as he played with her flesh. "Nuada, that feels so good," Grace gasped, arching herself against him, begging him to go farther with this.

"Is this why you wanted me to join you tonight, A'maelamin?" Nuada prodded, his tongue tracing little circles around her nipple while elegant fingers delved into those delicate lace panties for the first time. He studied her every reaction intently, noting how her breath caught when he feathered the lightest touch across her enticing mound, then appreciating the primal moan she purred when he followed it with the most sensuous fingertip massage. Grace was wantonly offering herself to his touch now, and his fingers slid teasingly through silky folds plump and damp from need. Mercilessly, he eased his thumb to her nub, painfully slow circles teasing her into a frenzy, and soon Nuada found Grace groaning with two fistfuls of his hair, wrenching on it until he wondered if she would tear it from his head completely.

"You enjoy this Erulissë, and I want you to know - if your heart wishes for nothing outside of me, then you may certainly have me . . . I will provide every pleasure your heart desires, if you wish it. Return home and I promise you limitless pleasure each day, each hour, each minute if you wish." Nuada interspersed his words with gentle bites and soothing licks against her skin as his fingers played inside her panties. He knew Grace ached to feel those fingers inside her, but that was one wish he would not grant. The next time Grace felt herself breeched by his flesh, it would be when he sheathed himself deep into the core of her body, and until then he would make her yearn for him every moment until that came to pass.

Grace's gentle gasps had grown louder, being joined by subtle moans as she writhed against him, her fingers coming to dig into his shoulders as she wantonly pressed her hips up against him, silently begging for more.

"You need completion, Erulissë, and I can give it to you," he encouraged, "speak to me . . . tell me where we are, and I will provide you the pleasure you want."

That gorgeous supernatural creature was already providing pleasure, and Grace could not even form an intelligent answer as he languished over her body, his mouth and one hand tormenting her breasts as his other hand continued to work the silkiness of her folds, teasing her delicate nub relentlessly - but she wasn't the only one in need. Nuada's provocative ministrations were torturing him as well, and he hurt he was so painfully aroused. Every thrust of her hips against him made his breath hitch, and with each groan that purred from her lips he felt his restraint slip. Nuada was determined he would not relent until Grace did, but he feared if this continued, he would lose his control in spite of himself, and he fought to keep his desires in check, still resolute to find out where they were.

"Say the words Erulissë . . ." that tantalizing voice insisted ever so softly, "tell me where we are, and I will give you every pleasure you can imagine."

Well that was one hell of an invitation because at that particular moment Grace wanted quite a few pleasures. The enchantment spell had turned her insides to liquid fire and Nuada had teased her into a nearly uncontrollable frenzy, refusing to pleasure her until she relented to his request. The slightest shift of his flesh denied her again and again, and never before had Grace been so completely consumed with passion or desire. She was desperate for release. "No questions and no games . . . just pleasure . . . please Nuada, just pleasure," Grace rasped out through a clouded haze of passion, pleading with him, so breathless she could hardly speak.

"Tell me Erulissë," Nuada demanded softly, intentionally dragging his fingers across her clit until she shuddered. The dark realm warrior was positive he was about to win this battle of wills, but he was very wrong. Nuada was about to lose – big time.

"Why don't you just shut up?" Grace suddenly growled. "I don't want to talk and it doesn't matter where we are! Damn, I'm tired of playing these stupid sex games!"

Nuada had thoroughly enjoyed dominating her during the little sex exploration game they'd played these past few months, but Grace was absolutely sick of being bossed around by Nuada - or anyone else with pointed ears for that matter - and in that instant she proved it. Nuada might not have the ability to shift their forms, but Grace certainly did, and she flipped his ass over on the mattress like he was a ragdoll, shocking the absolute shit out of that unsuspecting creature.

Astonished, Nuada immediately reached to grab her again, only to come to the startling realization that he couldn't move. Grace had him pinned to that bed with a thought, and Nuada was completely powerless - she could do anything she wanted – and his mind boiled as he wondered just what on earth that was going to be. Nuada could not believe he'd been stupid enough to get caught in such a vulnerable position, and he knew if Eric Northman ever found out about this, he'd be dancing on the bar in Fangtasia singing "I told you so, dumbass".

"Erulissë, you must not forget what I told you earlier," he warned cautiously, but Grace ignored him. Her fear of Nuada was gone – erased by the unquenched lust that enchantment spell was wringing from every molecule in her body – and her breath came in labored pants as she leaned over to the night stand.

Nuada sucked in a nervous breath as her hand grazed over the glistening blade of his knife, but thankfully, she only grabbed the cup there. Her throat was parched from the heat rolling through her veins, and Grace took a much needed drink as she raked devouring eyes over his flesh then casually sucked a piece of half melted ice into her mouth. Purposefully chewing it, she straddled him, returning his earlier favor of positional domination as she contemplated deliciously dark ideas of what she intended to do now.

He tensed when she leaned down over him, hovering with her face only inches above his. Her black eyes glistened with a sadistic gleam, and her nipples were so close to his skin they were in real danger of brushing him when he breathed. Grace made sure they didn't. "Why can't you just hush and enjoy being with me?" she taunted. "You're determined to ask questions and play this stupid sex game, and it's always about you teasing me isn't it? I don't remember ever getting to tease you back, but I think it's about time I got a turn."

The surprise on his face was evident and Grace purely smoldered with mischief as she cat-licked her freezing tongue right across his chest. Every muscle in his body noticeably tightened, but when Nuada involuntarily licked his lips in anticipation of her doing it again, Grace snickered, watching with open satisfaction as a tiny lift caught the corners of his mouth when she grabbed the glass to retrieve another piece of ice. "You enjoy this, Nuada?" she mocked, taking the ice from her mouth to run the dripping fragment over Nuada's lips as she ground her hips down against his, intentionally provoking him.

Nuada's groin twitched uncontrollably as he groaned, but he stubbornly refused to speak - which was fine. This had been a very long time coming, and Grace already knew the answer anyway. He most certainly did want to play, and that white fire burning beneath his skin clearly said so. Swallowing the remnants of the ice with a deliberate smacking sound, Grace ran her eyes over that delicious expanse of pale muscles in front of her then licked the trickles of water from that velvety mouth. Damn this was going to be fun.

"You aren't answering me?" she pouted, teasing him by leaning so close the tips of her nipples did brush against him. "Do you like this, Nuada? Do you want to play?" she insisted, rocking her hips yet again, sliding the damp lace that covered her down the hardened length of his shaft, just daring him to say yes.

Again, Nuada groaned but did not answer - at least not until Grace took that devious little mouth of hers and began to deliberately lick his nipple. It was unexpected to say the least, and Nuada's breath hitched in his throat as he was assaulted by the strange sensations of warm lips and a cold tongue as she teased his flesh. "Erulissë," he finally moaned, intending it to be a warning, although it came out as more of an invitation than anything else.

He gasped with delight when she nipped him, and Grace ignored his pleas for restraint, continuing to roll the now hardened peak of his nipple with her tongue relentlessly, not stopping until he actually whimpered softly. Satisfied with the reaction, she planted her hands on each side of his head then leaned down to stare him right in the face. "Gee, seems you aren't the only one who's good at that," she taunted with a devilish grin, forcing Nuada to wonder what she intended to do next - and he did not have to wait long to find out. "Let me think . . . why did I bring you here tonight? Hmmm . . . I ate before I went to bed, but I never got dessert," Grace murmured softly.

Nuada's eyes narrowed as Grace reached back toward the glass of ice cubes, but they flew open in surprise when he realized by the time that cup returned to her mouth, his pants were gone. It was a feat Grace had perfected over time - and something that had cost Nuada countless custom tailored shirts. He couldn't care less, but he had never stopped to consider that her well honed mind trick might work just as well on other attire . . . right down to black silk boxers!

He shivered in anticipation as he waited to see what she did with that ice, but when she kept it in her mouth and began to slide down his body, Nuada began to comprehend just what she had in mind for dessert. Startled by her aggression, Nuada suddenly realized the sweet taste in her mouth was liquor. Grace was never this way except when she was drunk, and Nuada had no way to know she downed six wine coolers after they got off the phone – and he'd unknowingly ignited her alcohol driven sexual appetite with his dark realm enchantment spell. Grace was burning with lust like a bonfire, and he quickly surmised that it would be nearly impossible to stop her before things got out of hand . . . but he was completely unable to resist, nor could he hide just how pleased his body was at her attentions.

"Erulissë," he warned again, his tone firmer, but the name died on his lips as her warm hand planted itself in his groin at the exact same time her mouth latched hold of the inside of his right knee. That knee weakened right along with the other one as she began an arduous journey up the inside of his thigh, the strange mixture of hot and cold in her mouth making itself known inch by inch as she worked her way north, combining her efforts with that of the five fingers cradling his sack then caressing the length of his shaft as she nibbled away at his thigh.

Every muscle in his body screamed to attention as Grace's head progressed ever closer to his core, and Nuada was positive had he not already been lying down, he would have collapsed. It was not that this was something unfamiliar. Quite to the contrary, it was a task he had paid Serena to provide quite regularly – but there was a tremendous difference between paying a female to provide a service, and having the woman you loved pleasure you out of pure desire – particularly while pinned helpless to a bed.

Nuada's entire existence had been reduced to a ravenous hunger for her touch by the time Grace finally crouched over him, and the odd sound of ice being crushed between teeth did not even register in Nuada's passion-clouded brain, but the meaning behind that peculiar sound became shockingly clear when those warm lips and freezing tongue closed around his throbbing flesh. Reeling from stunned surprise, Nuada struggled to breathe as Grace pulled him deep into the titillating recesses of her mouth, but it only made his situation worse. Every tortured breath drew the tangy scent of passionate need deep into his lungs – the tantalizing smell of Grace herself - blatantly telling him how stimulating she found her own lascivious acts.

His eyes were closed as he fought for restraint, but the wildly pleasing sensation of Grace's mouth tore them open, snatching a startled gasp from his lips that echoed off the ceiling. His breath was hot when her name crawled across his lips that time, but it was no longer a warning to stop. It was a desperate plea to continue, and she did, sliding her hands across his body to splay possessively across his hipbones as she began to work Nuada's body with her own. Her groans of satisfaction soon matched his, both of their bodies burning with unbridled lust, and she released him from her grip, daring him to participate.

Thrilled by his freedom, Nuada's trembling hands came to tangle in the short softness of her hair, ever so gently guiding her, encouraging Grace to touch him in this way. Through all of their sexual games, she had never done anything nearly so brass as this to tease Nuada, and that made it all the more erotic. The warmth of her mouth, the chill of the ice, the tickle of her fingers . . . it was a heady combination, and Nuada savored every delicious motion of that warm wet pleasing heat caressing his body, wallowing in sheer delight that Grace was doing this.

The scent of her arousal wrapped around him like a gentle blanket as Grace worked him unmercifully. Her hands cradled him, massaging the tightness of his base as she took him deep into her mouth again and again, and Nuada splayed his legs open to offer himself to her fully, his hips meeting every motion of her mouth with greedy need as a distinct crimson flush covered him – and it was most definitely not due to the faint heat of a summer's night. Every inch of his body screamed with delight, and soon he was trembling uncontrollably, every breath a tortured groan, his eyes burning like coal embers as he watched the human he loved pleasure him.

"Erulissë . . .look at me," Nuada suggested in a hoarse whisper, fighting to control his voice. "Open your eyes and watch me . . . I want you to know how much you please me." The very thought of Grace acting on that invitation scorched his soul, and when those luminous grey eyes came up to lock with his, Nuada felt his blood begin to boil. Ravenous need clamoring to be satisfied clawed at his very soul, viciously demanding to be released as Grace did exactly as he asked.

Her smoldering gaze never left his face as she drank in every lustful glint that traced through his eyes, the tightening of his jaw as he fought for control, the way he chewed his lip as he choked back another groan. Grace could feel every muscle in his body begin to tighten and knew he was edging very close to completion, but Nuada wasn't going be taking that trip to happy land quite yet. The way to a man's heart might be through his stomach, but the way to his brain was through his dick, and Grace had a little message for Nuada – and she intended to be damn sure he was listening when she gave it to him.

Paying careful attention to the growing strength of his thrusts, the tightening of his grip on her hair and the now roaring flames in his eyes, with one last unbelievably arousing drag of her mouth up his shaft, Grace released him, removing her hands and mouth from his body completely. Her days of being dominated by Nuada were over, and Grace intended to require of him the exact same thing he had always demanded from her. If Nuada wanted to be pleasured, then he was going to have to ask for it – and that wasn't all he was going to have to do either.

Nuada cried out at the unbelievable sensation of loss, his body desperate for release. Confusion clouded his face as he found himself suddenly wondering if this was something Grace was not comfortable seeing to completion. "Erulissë," he growled out in near panicked desperation, his breath coming in labored pants. "What is wrong? Are you frightened of this?"

"Frightened?" Grace sneered, nonchalantly retrieving her cup and taking another drink. "I'm not frightened, Nuada. I thought you wanted to talk." She reclined across the bed, chewing a piece of ice then casually running her tongue across his thigh while passing him a very cool, calculated look.

So aroused that even the feeling of her breath was causing him to squirm, Nuada let out a low elven curse. That devious little human was proving herself to be quite a worthy opponent in this strange game they were playing – but he was catching on fast – and he was so going to get her back for this at some point! "Talk? You wish to talk – right now?" he asked incredulously, as a shaking hand came to grip his now engorged flesh. "I believe perhaps it is more that you wish me to listen, so tell me Erulissë, is that the game you wish to play tonight? The talking, listening game?"

"I'm not playing a game, Nuada," Grace drawled back, teasingly stroking her fingers along the sensitive underside of his shaft, "but now that I have your attention, there are two things I want from you. I want you to stop pestering me about where we are, and I want to hear you say in no uncertain terms that I'm who you want – that you never intend to go back to that fucking whore you've been cheating on me with again."

Grace had Nuada's attention alright, and he jerked sharply when she intentionally brushed her cheek along his length, then began to teasingly suck the fingers of the hand holding his erection, reminding him yet again of what he walked away from. "Say it and mean it, then hush and enjoy yourself," she insisted firmly, "or you'll get nothing."

The feeling of her mouth on his fingers sent fire roaring through his very soul, and Nuada shuddered as he quickly slipped his other hand under her chin, gently guiding Grace back to the place he so desperately needed her to be. "I can not erase my desire to find and protect the one I love, but I beg you take me again, Erulissë," he pleaded. "Taste my seed and know the pleasure of the one who loves you, for on my life I swear no other female will ever know my touch again."

Both his voice and eyes were begging her to continue, and Grace obligingly replaced his hand with her own, licking away the crystal drops collecting on the tip of his shaft before locking eyes with Nuada once again. "I'll warn you one time, and one time only," she told him seriously. "Don't push me right now. I'm dealing with this the best way I know how, and I'm trying very hard to trust you again . . . so be very careful of the promises you make, because if you lie or if I ever catch you anywhere near that whore again, I'll see you both dead before this ends."

That piercing gaze never wavered as his hand insistently eased toward the back of her head, urging her closer. "My every word has been true, Erulissë," he promised faithfully.

His heart raced like that of a caged bird as Nuada watched Grace's mouth ease ever closer to his flesh, and when she drew him deep into the heated torture of her mouth in a single fluid motion, he threw his head back and growled out her name in sheer agonized need. His impatient hands were fisted in her hair, but Grace intentionally slowed the pace to a torturous crawl, lavishing attention on every sensitive spot.

Using her hands in conjunction with her mouth, she pleasured him, timing her motions to the soft thrusts of his hips he was now incapable of controlling as the curtains at the window danced in time with the flames that covered them. His breath caught deep with every swirling stroke of her tongue as she worked him from base to tip, and as she licked and sucked at the broad head of his shaft, Nuada's moans morphed into an almost primeval purr, telling Grace if only for a short time, she held complete control over this creature.

Soon the strange, pungent taste of the man she loved began to creep across her tongue, and Grace knew he was beginning to lose control. His hands slid from her hair to clutch fistfuls of bedding as the first tremors of pleasure began to rumble through his groin, and then his entire body clenched, his voice roaring his pleasure as waves of pure ecstasy rocked him. Welcoming his last frantic thrusts, Grace continued to please him to the very end, allowing him every second of intensity she could provide. When he was finally sated, she pulled away, continuing to stroke him gently as he lay sprawled in the bed struggling to compose himself.

As Nuada lay on the bed of that South Padre Island beach house watching a ceiling fan make lazy circles overhead he found himself pleasure drunk and thunderstruck - completely dumbfounded that after everything he had done to her, Grace still chose to care for him – and in complete awe that after all the millennia of his painfully solitary existence, this one human could comfort his soul. It was unfathomable, and Nuada found himself greedily yearning to taste himself on her tongue – to prove that this warm beautiful human woman had chosen to share herself with him - and to believe that in time, Grace would truly belong to him in every way.

Quickly pulling Grace up beside him, he collected her body against his still trembling flesh, hungry lips claiming hers before she could make a sound, his eager tongue mating with hers as he drank from the depths her mouth. He kissed her for what seemed like an eternity, and his eyes radiated adoration when he finally lifted his mouth from hers. The very scent of his body clinging to her breath was intoxicating, and Nuada found himself desperate to let her know how much she meant to him.

"Gen hannon, Erulissë," he whispered, nuzzling his face against hers. "You have surprised me beyond words this night melethril nín. To be pleased in such a way by one who cares for me is not something I had ever dreamed of, yet you have shared yourself with me and brought pleasure as I never imagined . . . and to hear that you wish to trust in me again causes my heart to sing, A'maelamin. You truly are a gift to my life, and I hope that one day you will understand how very much you mean to me."

Nuada paused, hesitating as he searched for the right words to continue. He still hoped to speak with her of serious things, but Grace was not interested in talking or listening at the moment and her mouth covered his before he could utter another sound. The heat of that enchantment spell was tearing through her flesh like a feral animal fighting for release and satisfying Nuada had only served to fan the flames. Grace was utterly bewitched; hovering on the verge of a complete sexual driven explosion, burning so hot with lust her skin now glowed against the dancing shadows of that room and she was more than ready for a little satisfaction of her own.

"We're not through playing," she murmured as she began to bite the curve of his neck. "You've got promises to keep."

Nuada's pale blond brows arched in surprise, but he found himself stifling a smile as his hands enthusiastically returned to intimate caresses. He certainly had no complaints. He would gladly participate in round two of this erotic adventure – he would pleasure Grace until she screamed – and he would simply speak to her when they were finished. "Do you wish the same pleasure from me, Erulissë?" he whispered. "For I have so very long wished to taste you, A'maelamin. Never before have I tasted a human woman, and you are so warm and beautiful . . . like the rays of the sun."

His voice was sultry and seductive, spoken by a tongue ready to please, yet Grace suddenly found herself incapable of responding. Just as Nuada had never dreamed of receiving such carnal pleasures from her, neither had Grace imagined them from him, and she suddenly felt as if her mouth had been sewn shut, her breath stolen from her lungs by the mere idea of his mouth against her center.

"Trust me, Erulissë . . . please let me share with you the same pleasures you have shown me," Nuada coaxed gently.

Grace said nothing, her silent reply to simply push down on his shoulders, trembling hands granting permission for him to proceed.

Passing an appreciative gaze over Grace that devoured every inch of her naked body, Nuada eased himself lower, hot dampness tracing against quivering tanned flesh as he ever so slowly licked the flat of her stomach, rolling the taste of her across his tongue almost as if he were sampling a fine wine. Firm lips grazed the length of her hipbones - first one, then the other - first up, then down - every lingering stroke investigating lower, and every enchanting touch promising pleasure. Soon his mouth came to linger over her navel, his tongue dipping into the tempting recess, teasing at that tiny dolphin until her groans filled the room.

Elegant hands were just taking hold of the lacy edges of her panties with the intention of removing them when Grace caught the outline of a shadowy form silhouetted outside the window of the bedroom. Her startled gasp filled the room, but it was drowned out by the sound of glass breaking and wood splintering when the French doors leading out to the balcony were instantly kicked in.

Nuada was off the bed with his war blade clutched in his hand before Grace could even comprehend what was happening, but when Logan threw the remains of that door out of the way and he and Jaus came barreling into that room, she figured it out fast enough. In her passion induced haze, Grace's brain had not registered the sound of her cell phone ringing in the kitchen, but after calling repeatedly to check on her, Logan demanded they return to that beach house so he could see firsthand why she was incapable of answering the phone. Jaus had refused to enter for fear of scaring Grace in her sleep, so the twins had slipped onto the balcony for a closer look, but when they heard her strange groans floating from that bedroom, they didn't know if she was ill, being assaulted, or what was happening - so Logan decided to just come on in and find out.

The gleam of fangs against moonlight competed with the flash of metal, but those two things were never going to connect. The second Nuada and Logan lunged for one another, Grace clamped her hands over her ears and screamed, throwing Nuada back to Shreveport and bouncing his ass off the hood of Eric Northman's Corvette hard enough to crack the windshield.

Poor Eric. The vampire had just seconds earlier pulled that gleaming new car into the garage of his house, and he was just turning the ignition off when the entire car was shaken by a horrendous crash and the pale naked ass of Amarande Nuada was pressed against the windshield directly in front of his face. THAT was certainly not a sight Eric was expecting, and even that steady vampire nearly pissed himself. His mouth fell open as he stared in disbelief – both at the ass and his busted windshield – and he jerked his door open and jumped out.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Eric hissed in fury. "You're going to give me a heart attack, and I'm already dead! And where the hell are your clothes?" Nuada didn't say one word. He simply sat up on the hood then disappeared, leaving Eric with his mouth agape, alone in his garage.

His war blade was firmly clutched in Nuada's hand when he reappeared, and he didn't even bother to get dressed, materializing directly in the bedchamber of Glorfindel deep in the heart of Imladris – butt naked. "Get up, elf!" he bellowed, snatching the covers off the sleeping warrior.

"What is happening?" Glorfindel muttered groggily, cracking open a sleepy grey eye only to be met by the sight of an alabaster penis glowing in the moonlight - right in his face. "Rhaich!" Glorfindel screeched, scrambling off the opposite side of the bed as he fought to wake up, then peering cautiously at that penis to see if it was pierced. He'd been haunted by images of Jaus's private parts since he rendered that blocking spell, and the poor sleepy elf was positive that amorous vampire had come to claim him.

The long blonde hair certainly wasn't helping any, and it took Glorfindel a moment to realize who was standing there. "Explain yourself," he demanded loudly, "and by the Valar, put on some clothes!"

"Fuck my clothes," Nuada spat back viciously. "You take me to Erulissë this instant! I was just with her when that ignorant meddling vampire tore down the door and rushed the room – only there were two of them! What the hell is going on at that beach house? Are you to tell me there are two Logan's? Twin vampires! Is that how you came to find Erulissë? You went after Logan and ended up with his twin?" Nuada's mind was reeling as he fought to sort out what he saw in the split second he was confronted by Logan in that bedroom – there had been two identical vampires facing him – identical!

Glorfindel's brows snapped together as he face creased into a terrible frown. "How did you come to be with Grace?" he demanded.

"She did whatever she did before . . . oh hell, I do not know how to explain and it does not matter at this moment!" Nuada screamed across the bed, clutching that war blade ominously. "All that matters is that I was with Erulissë and those vampires tore into the house and now I am here . . . She was screaming when I left, Glorfindel! You must take me to her now!"

"Am I interrupting something?" Elrond questioned from the door. His sleeping chambers were across the hall and the sound of Nuada's yelling woke him – and now he was standing in Glorfindel's room in his sleeping robes wondering why he was looking at Nuada standing in Glorfindel's room - naked.

"You most certainly are not!" Glorfindel hissed angrily.

"I demand he take me to Erulissë this instant!" Nuada growled out. "Then I am going to kill those damn vampires and take her home with me!"

"Nuada, I do not know what is happening here, but we have spoken of these things . . . we are going to allow Grace to opportunity to settle for a time. She is safe. Glorfindel is watching over her," Elrond offered calmly. "And might I politely suggest you find some clothing before we continue this conversation?"

"Why is everyone worried more for my clothes than Erulissë? To hell with clothes, and Glorfindel is not her guardian! I am, and I demand you take me to her this instant!" Nuada hissed, twirling that knife in agitation. His skin was glowing the strangest pinkish tone in the moonlight, and odd white lightning was beginning to trace over his skin, warning everyone that he was on the verge of exploding.

"Go check on the Pinilyaer," Elrond told Glorfindel firmly, finding Nuada standing nose to nose with him before the words died on the night air.

"I go to Erulissë, or I start killing people," Nuada warned.

His eyes were burning red as the flames of hell, and Elrond instantly made a mental call for Niall and the guardians to come subdue him for he went completely berserk. That was a fortunate move, because no sooner did they begin appearing in the room than Nuada's face suddenly went blank and all the color drained from his flesh. His hand shook so hard he could barely hold that knife as it went to his neck, and he stared at Elrond in complete disbelief, wondering if the elf lord could see the mirrored fang marks he just felt puncture his flesh.

Nuada's enraged screams began to tear through the halls of Imladris just as two powerful fey brothers and a dozen fairy guardians fell on him in a valiant attempt to subdue him. Gandalf came rushing into the room, attempting to assist by capturing the lethal guardian in a stasis spell, while Savan was summoned to sedate him, and Glorfindel quickly disappeared. The elven warrior did not even bother to fetch a shirt before appearing barefoot and bare chested in the kitchen of that South Padre Island beach house.

The golden warrior did not know what had taken place in that beach house earlier, or what Logan and Jaus were doing to Grace, but he was damn sure about to find out.


	48. Shrimp and Spells

Chapter 48 – Shrimp and Spells

Fairies. Grace was 110% positive she did not want to be turned into one, but those blue fairy flames she inherited from dear old dead granddad sure came in handy from time to time . . . and this was certainly one of those times! Half drunk on wine coolers and fully loaded with lust from a dark realm enchantment spell, Grace had been anxiously anticipating delivery of Nuada's promised pleasures when her happy time got shattered by harsh reality, compliments of splintering wood, blond hair and bared fangs. It sucked – and NOT in the way Grace was hoping for.

Determined not to see another drop of vampire blood shed in her name, Grace's visceral reaction was to catapult Nuada out of the room - metaphysical male manipulation delivered Smurfette style – but she sure as hell wasn't happy about it. Matter of fact, when Logan jumped onto the bed and protectively snatched her into his arms, Grace wanted to strangle him until he squealed. "What the fuck is wrong with ya'll?" she hissed. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"I'm not gonna knock when I can hear you groaning outside! Now you better start talking and tell me what the hell Nuada was just doing to you, 'cause it sounded like you were being killed! And how the hell did he find you anyway?" Logan growled back, frantically searching her for any signs of injury. Well she wasn't hurt, but she was sure as hell horny, and his fingers found nothing but naked flesh slick with the sheen of sweat, just steeping in the tangy scent of arousal. Now Logan wasn't always the brightest bulb in the bunch, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that what a concerned friend peeking through a curtain obscured window interpreted as Nuada in a threatening position over Grace, had obviously been nothing of the sort!

Dumbass!

Vampires don't blush, but if they did, Logan would have and as the scent of recent erotic pleasures came drifting across the room to creep up Jaus's delicate nostrils where he stood gawking at the remnants of his French doors, he quickly caught on too. Turning to stare at Grace, he found her nude except for a scrap of panties - her hair all over the place, her cheeks flushed . . . Nuada had been butt ass naked when he came lunging across that room . . . Nope, didn't take much stretch of the imagination to figure out what they'd been doing.

Repeat = Dumbass!

"You have got to be kidding me, Logan!" he retched in disbelief. "Her boyfriend was about to fuck her and you busted the damn doors down? Has being stuck in Shreveport sucked all the intelligence out of your head, or are you just trying to get that guardian to hurry up and kill you?" Retching out a violent German curse, he kicked what was left of a door, shattering another pane of glass before stomping back out to the balcony.

Jaus was pissed to no end, but Logan was beginning to think he'd been right to kick those doors in. He was still examining Grace, taking in her gleaming black eyes, heaving breaths and trembling flesh. The girl looked like she was on the verge of a heart attack, and he got the pressing feeling it wasn't from nerves. "Grace, what's wrong with you?" Logan demanded. "Did Nuada do something to you?"

Damn right he did something to her - something much more pleasant than everything else Nuada had done to her lately – and something he did NOT finish. While her guardian had proven to be frighteningly adept at throwing Grace's internal switch firmly on "Bitch" these past few weeks, tonight that scorching hot creature had managed to set her entire body firmly on "Fuck Me Till I Scream Mode" . . . but there was a significant problem with that. Nuada was gone.

Now left alone to fight off the lingering effects of that spell and the proliferating lust gnawing at her veins, Grace was losing – big time – and it only took one ravenous look raked over the delectably sexy vampire cradling her in his arms for Grace's ever mindful conscious to find itself fatally pounded into oblivion. Those devious thoughts she'd been entertaining were on high alert and they came gushing back in a torrent, deviously reminding her that with a little prodding, she could most certainly persuade Logan to take up where Nuada left off.

"Well . . . he started doing something to me, but he didn't finish," Grace revealed breathlessly, hungry eyes running over him like a thanksgiving turkey fresh from the oven.

Faint blue flames started flashing beneath her skin, and Logan knew instantly he was in deep shit. Jaus had already threatened to pull his fangs out with pliers if he touched Grace again, and Logan never intended to assume Nuada's place tonight in Grace's "serve me some satisfaction" line, but there was a blatant invitation hidden in that last comment just daring him to accept it and Grace started playing dirty. More than ready to start the prodding process, provocative little fingertips sought out invitingly cool lips, stroking his fangs until she dragged an involuntary groan from his chest.

"Grace, stop teasing me!" Logan hissed, pushing her hands away, but Grace retaliated in remarkable fashion, slapping them onto his shoulders and once again disrobing a male, sadistic fingers sliding from a silky shirt to satiny skin in seconds.

Like an ice cube in the summer sun, all thoughts of resistance melted as Grace brazenly crawled right into his lap, pressed her bare chest to his, tempting hands raking down those delicious tattoos on his ribs determined to find out where they really ended. Logan's groin erupted and his every greedy craving sprang to life as Grace resorted to pure erotic extortion, sending those wild blue flames creeping, hot tendrils teasing and groping every inch of his body as she once again offered Logan everything he'd ever dreamed of. Arching her neck, she just begged him to bite her again. "Please Logan, I'm not teasing. I need this . . . You said it was better the second time, and I won't tell if you won't."

The tension in Logan was already at a frenetic level - and to his credit he was trying his very best to resist - but when Grace unabashedly bit his shoulder and fondled his dick at the same time, that vampire snapped. Driven by pure blood lust, animalistic urges overrode common sense and he seized hold of her, parting her thighs with his own and driving Grace back down onto that mattress before she caught another breath. Without even thinking, he jerked her head to the side, then sank those glistening fangs deep into the soft flesh of her neck.

Visions of Nuada danced before her eyes as Grace suddenly found her every immoral self-indulgent wish granted from the most unlikely source. Where she had expected her visiting lover to make good on his promises of limitless pleasure, it was Logan who delivered. The vampire did not lie when he said the second time was better than the first – he proved it – causing Grace to arch uncontrollably as he wantonly shoved the pulsating hardness that was her creation against her core and pulled the blood from her flesh for the first time. Grace gasped, digging her hands into that long blond hair and dreaming that it was Nuada above her as Logan began to grind hungry hips against hers, all while dragging the crimson life from her veins.

Desperately yearning for release, the erotic sensation of Logan rocking his shaft against her clit through the paper thin scrap of lace she called panties was far more than her previously teased flesh could resist, and Grace cried out, a proclamation of sheer rapture being torn from her soul as Logan sent waves of orgasmic delirium crashing through her body the likes of which she had never dreamed of. Pleasure blind, she writhed wildly beneath him, trembling violently as she groaned, fighting to survive the onslaught of passionate ecstasy.

It was magnificent, overwhelming and unfortunately, very short-lived. The second her voice pierced the hot summer's night air, Jaus tore back inside, immediately dragging Logan off. "You tap that, and her boyfriend's gonna skin your ass alive," he growled out in warning, wondering where the hell Logan's shirt went, then realizing in horror that his brother was biting Grace again. "You've lost your fucking mind tonight!" he yelled angrily, wrenching violently on his brother. "Get off her, and go spit that shit out!"

Poor Logan – he was having one hell of a night. Not only did he make a complete ass out of himself by breaking in, now he'd backed it up by letting Grace flagrantly use him as her Nuada substitute. Thankfully, Jaus was there to save him, those insistent smacks to the back of Logan's head enough to snap a passion clouded brain out of lust land and make him cognizant of the taste of tainted blood in his mouth. Flying off the bed, Logan ran for the bathroom to spit it out, leaving Jaus muttering vicious German obscenities under his breath, positive Nuada was going to come busting back into that room to kill them all at any given moment.

Hands planted on those narrow hips, Jaus tried frantically to figure out how in hell to get hold of Glorfindel, while unhappily studying his recently acquired human friend. Repeatedly murmuring Nuada's name, Grace had curled in a little ball clutching a pillow, her black eyes still burning with pure fire. Everything indicated that Grace was absolutely not in control of her faculties, and Jaus wondered what on earth had taken hold of her to make her intentionally seduce Logan into biting her again! Fearing her mutterings might summon Nuada back to the room, Jaus assumed a protective stance in the bathroom doorway, but fortunately for the twins, the mercenary was not going to reappear – although his presence was still going to be felt in the most remarkable way.

The dark realm enchantment spell Nuada so kindly bestowed on his desired mate earlier that evening tied Grace to him - and him only - so while the feelings of pleasure she just experienced via Logan were nothing short of pure euphoric intoxication, compliments of Nuada's possessive black magic, they were soon countered by the most sickening wave of nausea she had ever experienced. Praying for mercy, Grace squeezed that pillow tighter and tighter, but finally she couldn't fight it anymore. Stumbling off the bed with her hands clamped over her mouth, she barely managed to rush past Jaus into the bathroom before collapsing into a gagging heap over the side of the tub.

It was the very last thing Jaus expected, and he could do little more than stare in amazement, temporarily incapacitated by the sight of far too much forbidden flesh, followed by the horrid sounds of dual retching. He'd seen a lot of really strange shit in his five century life, but coordinated couples puking was certainly not what he expected to be dealing with when he agreed to come to this beach house tonight – especially when one of the people vomiting was his nearly naked house guest he just pried his brother off of. Quickly snatching a sheet off the bed, the snarled German insults returned as the beleaguered vampire went into the bathroom and quickly covered Grace with it, determined to retain some sense of common courtesy and etiquette in this increasingly odd situation.

Returning to the bathroom doorway, Jaus was carefully watching the bedroom and the still hacking pair when Glorfindel came stalking in a few moments later. His shimmering mane and massive bare chest were certainly attention getting, but Jaus recognized him immediately. "Nuada send you?" Jaus asked quietly.

The elf did not answer, his cold sterling eyes boiling like thunderheads as they studied the gaping hole in the bedroom wall. Stepping closer, he peered past Jaus into the bathroom where Grace was huddled on the floor vigorously dry-heaving into the bathtub with one hand clamped over the side of her neck. Blood peeked between her fingers, and in combination with the strange swirls of it staining the bathroom sink Logan was leaned over, Glorfindel could easily surmise the vampire had bitten her again. It was unexpected to say the least, and his humorless expression left little doubt of his opinion. "Your worry would be better placed with me than Nuada," Glorfindel growled harshly, "for I require an explanation for what I am witnessing!"

"I don't have an explanation for this," Jaus snarled right back. "Logan's gone crazy, Grace seems to be high on drugs or something, and I just saw a naked man ready to gut me disappear into thin air, so why don't you give me a fucking explanation for what I just witnessed instead!"

"Well perhaps it is the moon cycle," Glorfindel answered with thinly veiled elven sarcasm at its finest. "For I fear I am struggling to explain the things I am seeing this night as well! Only moments ago, I woke deep in the halls of Imladris to find Nuada completely devoid of clothing in the center of my bedchamber ranting of you and your brother, and I have no doubts he is at this very moment destroying everything I own . . . which appears to be a common activity this night!"

Glorfindel passed a pointed look over his shoulder toward the shattered mess Logan created when he tore the French doors off the hinges, drawing yet another snarled German obscenity from Jaus. "My brother is the overzealous one here tonight, not me," he defended. "And if you can deal with Grace, I've got to drag his ignorant ass out of here and get home before sunrise - but don't worry. I'll get that taken care of. Just put her in one of the other bedrooms until the repair crew gets here."

Glorfindel nodded unimpressed, while Jaus leaned farther into the bathroom. "Hey Logan, you finished hacking yet?" he prodded sarcastically. "I know this is fun and all, but we've got to get going! It's almost sunup."

"Spit or swallow . . . sometimes it's a hell of a choice," Logan spat back, passing Jaus a smartass glare and seeing that Glorfindel had joined them. He would have preferred to shove his head through the sink in lieu of facing that obviously pissed off elf, but reluctantly he straightened from his hunched position, accepting the full brunt of Glorfindel's admonishing glare and knowing that he was one damn lucky creature he wasn't still in the bed on top of Grace. "I need to get the hell home before I do something else stupid, just be sure she's alright, please Glorfindel?" He didn't bother waiting for a response, pushing his way past them and heading outside via the gaping hole he put in the wall.

Glorfindel watched him go with thinly veiled contempt. He had a very small patience allowance, and Logan's quota was now officially used up. "Might I offer you a bit of advice, mellon nín?"

"No need," Jaus answered. "I don't read minds, but I already know what you're about to say, so don't bother. I'll get Logan under control, if you'll just please help Grace . . . I'm not sure what's wrong with her, but she's been throwing up like that for a while now."

Crossing his arms, Glorfindel nonchalantly glanced at Grace. "Watching the Pinilyaer retch is not a new experience for me. I have seen this reaction from her on a number of occasions . . . it will pass soon enough," the elf answered flatly.

Jaus blinked a few times, wondering if he wanted an explanation for that . . . hmmmm . . . nope. Not tonight anyway. Seen enough weird shit for now! "Well, then I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself," Jaus sneered, then he turned very serious. "Does Nuada know where she is? Is he coming back?"

"Nuada has yet to discover the location of this place, but rest assured that it is only a matter of time before he does," Glorfindel cautioned sternly. "I hold hope that an agreeable solution to this unfortunate circumstance is reached before that day arrives, but I warn you my vampire friend. That creature holds power beyond your wildest dreams, and while he may not be in the current favor of the Pinilyaer, your brother would bode well to respect his claim of guardianship over her, lest he find himself in harm's way again, and you find yourself grieving the loss of a loved one."

Jaus looked over Glorfindel carefully, positive Logan stood to suffer just as much harm from that elf warrior as he did from Nuada if he bit Grace one more time. "I understand and I agree. The sooner this ends the better . . . and while Logan will pitch a fit, we'll stay away for the next couple of days and let things settle here. That work for you?"

"Wise choice," Glorfindel called back, already in the bathroom where he effortlessly plucked Grace from the floor. He quickly took her to another bedroom of the house, settling her on the bed and wrapping her tightly in quilts, then sitting with her quietly until she finally fell asleep.

Ready to take control of this situation himself, Jaus was dialing Nuada's number before he got his Range Rover door closed, praying he could negotiate some type of truce in lieu of possibly losing his beloved twin brother, who was sitting sheepishly in the passenger seat waiting. Unfortunately, there was no answer, so the determined vampire tried again – and again - continuing to call until he was forced to relent and retire for the morning. On his last attempt, he reluctantly left a message, apologizing for the night's odd events and assuring Nuada their intentions remained pure. He and Logan desired nothing more than to ensure Grace was protected from Lord Niall – nothing more, nothing less. Climbing into his coffin, Jaus lowered the lid and closed his eyes, fervently hoping this would not escalate into a violent blood bath before it was over.

Unfortunately, much blood was shed that night. The very moment Glorfindel disappeared from Imladris, the twin trails of blood oozing down Nuada's neck combined with all the pent up frustration and anger he had been fighting to contain since Grace, and the inconsolable mercenary suffered a complete emotional breach. Instantly transformed into nothing more than deadly flashes of pale skin and flame strewn hair, Amarande Nuada declared war against his very existence, validating his threat to Elrond that he would start killing people, and rendering a demonstration of death that would have made Thamuz glow with pride.

Bones shattered, furniture splintered and blood poured as Nuada unleashed the full onslaught of his fury against every guardian in his path, flaunting the elegant killing power of an angered dark realm warrior. Evil silver flashes of lightning spat death into the darkness as a war blade earned by killing threw crimson streams against stained glass windows and pristine linens, plunging that entire bedchamber into a black pit of annihilation. It was like nothing the halls of Imladris had witnessed in centuries, and before the massacre had ended, not a single fairy guardian remained standing.

The unmistakable scent of death hung heavy and thick on warm summer air as Nuada stood in the moonlight panting, surrounded by fallen bodies and broken fragments of furnishings, vermilion eyes burning as blood dripped onto his bare feet, proof of lives taken marring his pale flesh. His nude body was the epitome of a beautiful, perfect male form – an immaculate warrior - the flawless incarnation of a relentless guardian determined to do anything to return to the one he loved. Elrond's sympathetic voice called out to him, but all efforts at reasoning proved futile. There was but a singular thing that would sate the enraged creature – being returned to Grace - but neither Lord Elrond or Lord Niall had the power to comply.

In desperation, Elrond paired with Gandalf and Niall aligned himself with Savan, the four powerful entities working together to magically subdue him. It took every ounce of immortal ability and creative ingenuity the foursome possessed to corral him, but finally Gandalf managed to capture Nuada in a stasis spell, and Savan quickly slammed that syringe of sedative into his shoulder.

Nuada's eyes shuttered as his knees folded, and Savan gently caught him before he hit the floor, but the devastation left in his wake was tragic and Lord Niall quickly summoned more guardians to retrieve the dead and wounded. Emotionally overwrought, he exchanged terse words with Elrond while Savan collected Nuada's limp body, then the fairies departed, collectively spiriting themselves to Facility Four. The healers had their hands full, and Niall nervously hovered by Nuada's bedside, tormented eyes set deep in a frowning face taking in every motion as Savan checked him for injuries. Remarkably he'd suffered no more than a few deep gashes, leaving the disturbed Fairy Lord to settle in a nearby chair, elegant hands anxiously twisting in his lap as he waited for the sedative to wear off.

More than twenty-four hours crept past before an emerald eye cracked open again, and both Savan and Elrond were damn lucky his limbs were still numbed by that sedative when it did. Completely oblivious to the fact he was waking up, the two healers were excitedly posing questions to one another while peering at the fang marks in his neck, poking them aggressively with their fingers. Unceremoniously, they pinched and pulled at his rapidly healing wounds, wrenching his head to and fro, boorishly checking his pulse and sensing his aura. Shocked and violated, Nuada felt very much like an unfortunate domestic animal, lured to the veterinarian only to be unceremoniously prodded against his will.

Now Nuada held the utmost respect for Elrond, but being forcibly sedated and dragged to Facility Four against his will had done nothing to endear Savan to him, and with every touch and grope he grew more alert - and furious. He was fully awake and enraged by the time Savan reached for something then began to roll him over, and Nuada had a still weak hand clamped around his throat instantly. "If you intend to shove a thermometer up my ass, I fear you will be needing more of that sedative," he hissed.

"Forgive our zealous intrusion, Nuada," Elrond apologetically intervened, gingerly pulling Nuada's hand away from Savan's neck as he eased between them. "We meant not to offend. It is simply that we have spent many hours debating the condition of Grace over the past days, and wish to gather every piece of information possible in order to fully understand this problem. We find the fact that you are manifesting the Pinilyaer's injuries to be fascinating, yet your capacity to heal is astonishing."

Unimpressed, Nuada kicked off the sheet covering him, passing a poisonous glare around Elrond toward Savan, silently promising the fairy healer that the next time he even dreamed of injecting his bare ass with a sedative, he would find himself on the floor same as those guardians did. Oblivious to his grogginess, he slid from the bed and nearly swooned, finding Niall instantly at his side, offering a supportive hand.

"Please Nuada, lay back down. Let Elrond examine you, if not Savan, and let us be sure you are alright, then speak to me. I wish to know how you came to be with Grace and what is happening with my great-grandchild. Please tell me, I beg you." His voice was like a gentle spring rain, but the lightening flashing in his eyes was insistent, and even through the lingering fog of the sedative, Nuada could readily sense the Fairy Lord's anguish – although it paled in comparison to his.

"You have no doubt plundered my mind same as my flesh while I have lain here, so what is there to tell?" Nuada rasped, turning to Elrond. "There is no thanks to give for the kindness you and your people have shown me during my life, but I warn you mellon nín, if that favored elf of yours continues to separate me from Erulissë, the next blood I spill will not be that of a fairy." He offered nothing further, but his tense body posture warned them all to step aside and let him go, and they wisely complied, watching Nuada snatch his war blade from the bed then silently fade into the shadows.

Stepping out of those shadows seconds later, Nuada reappeared in the bathroom of Niall's Shreveport luxury apartment, immediately climbing into the familiar black granite shower. Fighting to collect himself, Nuada found cleanliness and freedom from a clouded mind by way of freezing water, and his flesh was trembling when he began cleaning the still bloody knife in his hand. Flipping the water controls to hot, he warmed himself and ran his fingers down the blade, only to find his breath stolen away as visions of haunting grey eyes and bronze skin danced against the swirling steam, memories of the delicate human he loved playing with that same weapon and pleasuring his flesh just daring him to come and claim her.

Nuada could think of nothing but her body pressed to his as he finished bathing, his burgeoning erection taunting him as he dried off, then pulled on clothes. Prodding his Blackberry, his heart raced like that of a caged bird as he listened to it dutifully announce messages against the growing light of a rising sun, praying she had called. As expected, Eric's familiar voice was present, a myriad of increasingly colorful communiqués filling the room as the vampire ranted of his broken windshield and how visions of Nuada's bare ass would be haunting him for years. It was much needed comic relief unknowingly provided by a true friend, and Nuada found the faintest hint of a smile on his face as he listened, barking out a silent mental command for guardians to have a new windshield put in the Corvette before Eric rose that night.

After the last sarcastic vampire comments ended, the phone announced the next message was from an unknown number, and Nuada froze, his skin tingling as he expectantly waited to hear from Grace. Instead, the strangely accented voice of Jaus came easing through the speaker, erasing Nuada's growing smile instantly. It was the final message and Nuada stalked across the room, viciously jabbing the buttons and listening to the pleading message again and again, but nowhere in that telephone inbox was what Nuada wanted to hear – a sultry southern drawl – and his own determination to find her was the reason it was not there.

Had Nuada not slipped Gandalf's ring off her finger during their visit, Nuada most definitely would have heard from Grace. Her sarcastic southern soul would never have been able to resist taunting him about his all too pleasant reaction to those ice cubes, and being the kind hearted person she typically was, she probably would've begged for forgiveness for letting Logan bite her again too – even if Nuada didn't deserve it – but that all changed when she found that ring on her nightstand the next afternoon after the sound of hammers and power drills woke her up.

Already suffering from an intense hangover she didn't understand, the flames of hell didn't burn hotter than her temper flared when Grace plucked that thin golden band from the table, and if Nuada had been standing there, he probably would've gotten the remnants of that glass thrown in his pretty, prying little face. Beautiful promises aside, Nuada had just proven that he was hell bent to drag her back at any cost, and Grace had no doubts that given half the chance, not only would he pry that ring off her finger again, he'd hold her down and scrub that spell off her leg if he found out about it – but that wasn't gonna happen, because come Thursday, she intended to take care of that pointy eared prying shit permanently!

Stalking back into the kitchen, she bounced that glass into the sink hard enough to break it, giving Glorfindel the southern shut the fuck up hand as she headed back to balcony. Grace didn't have anything to say, and honestly she didn't need to. He might have blond hair, but that elf was anything but ignorant, and he could easily figure out Nuada wasn't gonna be coming back for another sleepover anytime soon . . . and he could tell her that Logan wasn't either.

Grace's temporary guardian had no specific problem with Jaus – outside of his sexual aggression and penchant for penis piercings - but Logan was another story entirely. That first bite had been warranted, but the second placed that vampire in some dangerous territory, and Glorfindel did not intend for there to be a third. His strategy? Very simple - until some type of compromise or solution to this quandary was reached, if the sun was not shining, he would be present. He didn't intend to intrude on Grace's personal space or attempt to stop her friends from coming over, but he was more than aware of how to conduct surveillance without being noticed, and he could assure those vampires, if they were on that property, he would be watching.

Not hearing from Grace made the next days particularly cruel for Nuada, leaving him with chaotic emotions and bewildering, disorganized thoughts. Completely unaware of the blocking spell Grace wrote down her leg, he could not understand his inability to connect with her after removing that magic ring – just as he could not fathom why his trusty pixie tracking dust had failed. So far as supernatural guardians went, Nuada was the best of the best - the epitome of everything a guardian could and should be - the best tracker, the best hunter, the best mercenary - yet he couldn't find his own girlfriend! And to make things worse, she was snatching him from place to place like a ragdoll – a HUMAN was making a complete mockery of him - and it irked Nuada the very same as it irked Haldir of Lorien when she threw that marchwarden general across the balcony of Imladris. It was unconscionable that Grace was capable of such things, yet she was, and she continued to do it!

Head pounding, Nuada nearly paced a hole in the floor around the kitchen of that obnoxious luxury apartment, fondly revisiting their dish throwing match, but finding no answers or comfort in the familiar surroundings. Finally in a vain attempt to settle himself, Nuada traced to Grace's house, settling on her favorite bench in the middle of her roses to watch the sun throw its last beams of light against a dying afternoon and sink beneath the horizon. It was well needed therapeutic relief, the rich tangy scent of the coral rose Nuada brushed against his nose reminding him of simpler times, and encouraging him to find a way to return to them. One blink later, Nuada materialized in Los Angeles, immediately assuming a position of meditation in the center of those divination symbols etched in his bedroom floor. Reverently laying Olótëare in the center of the sparkling black circle directly in front of him, Nuada placed that coral rose across the blade and closed his eyes, pulling the shadows around him and plunging his gentle umber colored walls into an impenetrable obsidian cloak.

It was Wednesday afternoon before Nuada finally rose from the floor and his stiff limbs resisted as he pushed the darkness aside. Mentally exhausted, but calm and centered, Nuada was smelling that rose as he headed to take another much needed shower, jabbing the buttons on his Blackberry before he crawled in. Eric Northman's concerned voice soon echoed through the steam, expressing appreciation for the new windshield, but demanding an explanation for how and where Nuada was – but that was it. There was no such inquiry from Grace, and her continued silence plagued him, leaving Nuada feeling confused and peculiarly abandoned.

Soon doubt and concerns were circling his mind like a pack of greedy vultures, sniffing and snarling at one another as Nuada pulled on pajamas and threw himself in bed. He was praying Grace did not regret the way she pleasured him, and he was praying the second bite she shared with Logan was just as innocent as the first. Determined not to entertain such wicked ideas, Nuada rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head, forcing his mind to drift to more pleasant times, desperately hoping he might once again wake up in Grace's arms.

Not surprisingly, Nuada did not wake up with Grace, but he was more determined than ever to find her when he came strutting across that gigantic glass box he called an office the next morning like a peacock in heat, Mr. Ralph Lauren catalog looking perfection, skin flushed pink, eyes flashing brilliant emerald green, hair flaming under the bright lights. The elite guardian team was assembled and waiting, and Nuada certainly had plenty for them to do.

"Logan . . . I am still waiting to hear about this twin brother of his! Search for a name every way possible," he commanded. "I want everything about that vampire's twin down to who does his dry cleaning and his shoe size before the sun falls again - phone records, e-mails, and most importantly property records. And where the hell are my updates on Erulissë from the time I left this office Sunday morning until this moment?"

Instantly two dozen sets of fingers were flying as ancient fairy guardians trained in the secretive arts of stealing information began to frantically search every avenue available for answers, and assemble realms of papers into coherent compilations for their commander. Meanwhile, Nuada stalked over to the gigantic map on the wall and began an intensive study of the Texas coastline, concentrating on the area surrounding Brownsville. He considered every fragment he gathered while they'd been together . . . the direction of the moonlight as it filtered against the curtains, the sound of rolling waves and the smell of salty air. Everything told him Grace was in a house somewhere on the outermost edge of one of those islands flanking the coast – now all Nuada had to do was figure out which one.

Interrupting their activities, Nuada ordered his team to stare at a map of the United States one more time. The coastal islands were their specific search area now, and they were going to narrow it farther. They would find Logan's twin and search his property ownership and tax records. They would find his cell number and pull logs from cellular towers. They were going to find Grace.

Hours passed as the fixated guardian agitatedly circled the conference table, considering every computer screen, listening to every murmured phone conversation. It went on endlessly, and the sun hung low in the sky when Lord Niall silently appeared, elegantly folding himself into a seat at the head of that gleaming expanse of wood. The blame Nuada directed toward him for Grace's absence had been perceptibly deepening with every passing day, and it now hung looming over their tenuous relationship, threatening to destroy a fragile understanding that had taken millennia to build – and Niall would do anything to prevent that.

Earthly searches fell far outside of his expertise, but if anything lay within the grasp of the magnificently powerful fairy that might assist in bringing Grace home, he would gladly provide it. Studiously, the omnipotent fey assumed the same activities as Nuada, aggressively absorbing every word and image being thrown around that room, sucking the thoughts from every guardian seated in his presence. Intrigued by many of the things he learned, the fairy lord beckoned Nuada to join him, but just as the guardian sank into that plush leather chair – he was gone.

Just as Nuada had spent the past days obsessing of Grace, her thoughts had been dominated by him. Chain smoking and cloudy skies had done nothing to ease her mind – especially after Jaus called yesterday relaying a message that Matthew needed to push their appointment tonight back two hours – so she'd just come in from a soothing ride in Nuada's car to grab some more take out, watching the sun set in all its glory as she purred down an oceanfront highway, windows down and sunroof open, hot salt air teasing the last remnants of Nuada's alluring scent from those leather seats and shoving it up her nose.

Returning to the driveway, she sat wallowing in memories as the sun sank beneath the horizon, harkening to the stars and drawing down the darkness before heading inside, flopping onto a stool at the island to try and force herself to eat something before taking a shower and heading to the tattoo parlor. It was useless, every piece of ice those overcooked crustaceans were laying on serving as yet another memory of their last visit together. Finally relenting to her anger, Grace decided torturing the shrimp was as fun as anything else, so she began hacking their little pink bodies into small pieces and flicking them across the counter toward the trashcan. It was stupid, childish, and impossibly entertaining – right until she bounced one directly off Nuada's forehead.

Obviously Grace had been concentrating on Nuada a little harder than she realized, because she'd just done it again – she'd snatched his ass right to her side – shocking the shit out of both of them in the process. Stunned, her grey eyes lifted in slow motion, shifting from the shrimp to the perfect alabaster hand it had landed beside. An obnoxiously expensive writing instrument rested in the fingers, pale flesh fading to a perfect dark suit, its ultra fine texture and subtle pin stripe fitting broad shoulders as only a masterful tailor could force it to. The crisp cream shirt and deep colored tie with the fleur de leis pattern told Grace he was dressed to be in Los Angeles, while the blond hair falling in sunlit streaks tempted her to keep him from returning.

It was an OSM of monumental proportions, and Grace could do little more than watch in silent amazement as startled emerald eyes traveled up from a conference room table that was no longer there, running over tanned flesh barely covered by an excuse for a bathing suit, to finally rest on her face. The air froze in her lungs when Nuada's eyes met hers, but the anger that flared when they immediately slid away to inspect the carry out food container and copy of Gandalf's blocking spell where it lay under that golden puzzle box was unmistakable.

"Transformed yourself from Fido Fucker into Snoopy have you?" Grace growled, flames flying as she spat out a string of profanities, then took her mind and did exactly what she'd wanted to on Tuesday afternoon – she grabbed hold of that plate with her mind and threw it right in his face, just before shoving the idiot right back where she snatched him from.

It left Grace both amused and infuriated, positive the nosey jerk just saw something he shouldn't have, while Nuada was stunned to the very pits of his ancient soul. Initially, he wondered if his tortured mind was playing tricks on him, but the frog eyed stare coming from Niall Brigant told him it most certainly was no trick, as did the glass of Crown Royal Roxy dropped on the floor she'd been bringing to him. Amarande Nuada had just disappeared plain as day then reappeared again in front of over a dozen creatures – smelling like shrimp and covered in cocktail sauce.

Deeply thankful he didn't just eat the front of Eric's Corvette again, Nuada sat there for a moment while everyone stared at him, then he completed the culinary masterpiece, springing from his chair like a poptart being ejected from a toaster chamber, shrimp tumbling from his hair as he slung sauce and screeched, his voice tearing over the sounds of papers shuffling and keyboards clicking. "There has been a fucking error made . . . something missed! And I want it found this instant! Erulissë has a copy of an elven blocking spell laid right out on her counter, and I want to know how the hell she came to have it – now!"

His tension level increased with every word, and Roxy ran for the wet bar as Nuada began pacing again. Agitated to an almost infinite level, he suddenly realized why Fosster had been unable to trace the pixie dust he planted on that puzzle box – it was sitting on top of an incantation! Muttering viciously under his breath, Nuada spewed incoherent phrases about boiled shrimp and golden eggs, jerking back and forth while everyone watched in stunned silence – everyone except the guardian at the far end of the table.

That single guardian had fallen into a frenzied maelstrom of activity, suddenly pounding on his laptop like he was trying to kill it and frantically tearing through paper stacks like a piranha after a freshly fallen toad. It was strikingly peculiar, as was the fact that he just so happened to be the very same guardian who came easing into the conference room the night Grace was there with a stack of papers for Nuada. It was a stack that she destroyed, and it was also a stack that in his panic the guardian never reprinted and delivered – and it was a stack that contained an email of an elven blocking spell sent to a New Orleans witch named Amelia!

Oops.

Scared out his mind, the fairy started broadcasting like a lighthouse beacon, and in seconds Nuada was beside him, shifting across the room so fast his own hair smacked him in the face, dislodging a shrimp in the process. "Problem?" Nuada growled, stomping the food fragment into the carpet threateningly.

The unfortunate guardian cringed. Well aware of the carnage Nuada recently brought to Imladris, he was positive when he answered that question he would be next. "I fear there has been a . . . miscommunication. An e-mail containing elf speak was sent from the Lady Grace to one named Amelia some days ago which is located somewhere in this group of papers here, and there was an answer received which I shall have to reprint for . . ."

Pale hands around his throat stopped all conversation as Nuada nearly wrung that creature's head off with his bare hands then bounced him off the conference room wall. He had no toleration for mistakes or missed information from any creature in his presence – especially when Grace was concerned – and quite frankly, neither did Niall Brigant. The fairy lord frowned deeply upon Nuada's actions at Imladris, but if a fairy guardian made an error that might prevent them from locating Grace, or endangered her in any way, then Nuada could break every bone in their body for all he cared – and he might even help.

"There will be no miscommunications so far as my great-granddaughter and her safe return are concerned, less you all suffer!" the fairy lord bellowed in warning, throwing lightning in the air as he coldly stepped over the unconscious body sprawled in the floor to assume a position beside a now vacant chair. "Nuada, explain this to me!" he demanded harshly, his nose wrinkling at the aroma Nuada now emanated.

"Give me a fucking minute!" Nuada hissed.

Uncertain glances were cautiously passed toward the body crumpled on the floor as Nuada jerked out the newly vacated chair and threw himself into it, loosening his tie as he snatched the stack of papers the recently incapacitated fairy indicated from the table. "Unless you desire to join him, the information I need had better start appearing before me! You will start with that missing e-mail, then you will compile a list of every restaurant that sells boiled shrimp on those barrier islands – then you will find the one that sold a plate of them to a female driving MY new black Jaguar tonight!" he stormed, pulling off his jacket and sending yet another rubbery pink tidbit rolling across the table.

Terrified guardians scrambled as the commander of the entire fairy guard of Nárthea rolled up his sleeves and began personally searching through a small mountain of email printouts one page at a time. It took Nuada a few minutes to find the one he searched for, and his hands shook as disbelieving eyes began tearing over Gandalf's cloaking spell where Grace painstakingly typed it into that email. "Valar be merciful . . . how did Erulissë ever get hold of this?" he murmured. The spell was unfamiliar, but he could still recognize it for the powerful blocking spell that it was.

Hearing the murmured sentiment of concern, Niall peered curiously over his shoulder, sea green eyes tearing over the words and seizing on the name Amelia. "Nuada, I know of a female witch named Amelia. She is a friend of Sookie's who now lives in New Orleans," he revealed. "And I certainly hope she is prudent with her actions, because in light of what I see on that paper, she might very well have half of New Orleans in search of the other half!"

The many unpleasant shenanigans a witch could cook up with such a thing was just the kind of devious thought a fairy would typically find funny - although such actions would certainly have to be prevented - but no sooner did the jesting observation pass those velvety lips than a finger of dread slid down his spine, and all color drained from Niall's face.

Nuada was already reaching for his phone, his features also devoid of color as the two exchanged a startled look. Grace typed the e-mail, which meant she was the one truly in possession of that spell - and if Amelia could reek havoc through the creative use of that elven spell, then Grace most certainly could too. And while one could hope for prudence from Amelia, Grace had proven herself to be many things over these past three weeks - stubborn, reckless, headstrong, unreasonable . . . hell, they could even get away with calling her downright ornery - but never would they call her prudent.

The frown wrinkles on Niall's face were so deep you could've hidden things in them, and Nuada wondered if his head would explode before Eric Northman finally answered his phone, and he didn't even get the chance to say hello before Nuada was spewing questions . . . Did he or Sookie know any witches? Would any of them by chance be named Amelia? Had Sookie by chance mentioned anything about putting Grace in touch with her, or anything about a blocking spell?

The frantic nature of the questions being spat through his Blackberry caused Eric Northman to forgo the ass crack jokes, and he was out the back door of Fangtasia and in a gleaming red Corvette sporting a new front windshield tearing toward Bon Temps even as they continued their rapid fire exchange of information. Eric's conviction that Grace was up to more devious mischief was growing at a precipitous pace, and he promised to get answers from Sookie and respond within the next 30-45 minutes, furious that Sookie Stackhouse may have done something so ignorant.

When their conversation ended, Nuada slammed his phone down and retched out a torrent of curses, positive that conniving little human was up to something else remarkably unexpected - and Niall Brigant concurred – realizing he should have know better than to fool himself into believing Grace was doing nothing more than innocently baking on the beach while Glorfindel watched. "You find that witch, Nuada," he ordered firmly. "Determine her involvement with my great-grandchild, then retrieve that spell and cleanse her mind . . . then you get back here and figure out some way to locate Grace. This has gone far enough!"

Nuada nodded, barking out various commands, all while praying Eric Northman could get some useful information out of Sookie Stackhouse - but unfortunately, that Bon Temps conversation didn't progress quite the way Eric would have hoped.

**********************************************

Dust boiled when that flaming red Corvette roared up behind Merlotte's, and it hadn't even settled before Eric glided through the front door, impatiently motioning Sookie to join him. The bubbly blonde waitress passed Sam a begging glance, then hurried out the back door, thrilled her gorgeous fiancée had come to cheer her up. Unfortunately, she was dead wrong about the reason for his visit, and no sooner was her tired ass out the door than Eric had her backed up against the wall.

Leaning over her in a menacing position, his gaze was deadly as he stared down at her. "Sookie, my beautiful lover, I care for you more than you can imagine, but your cousin's determination to stay hidden is causing unbelievable difficulties, and I'm beginning to believe you're helping her. So I want you to please tell me everything Grace has spoken to you about during your phone conversations."

His icy blue eyes bore into her, willing his lovely fiancée to confess, but Sookie just stared up at him stubbornly, not appreciating the threatening way he was hovering over her in the least. "Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's easier to draw flies with honey than salt?" she snapped sarcastically, oblivious to his growing agitation.

"I'm going to ask one more time, Sook," Eric repeated, forcing himself to remain cordial. "What have you told Grace? Are you helping her? I want to hear this from you . . . tell me what your cousin is up to."

Sookie fumed, absolutely furious at the way she had been treated since Grace left. She couldn't understand why her cousin tore out of Shreveport and went into hiding. All she knew was that she was suffering – from the loss of her friend and from the loss of their bond – yet instead of being offered understanding or sympathy, she kept getting continually interrogated and accused of being involved - by Nuada, by Niall, and now by Eric? It was enough to make her lose her mind, and Sookie caved, letting her anger take control of her mouth. "I might love you, Eric, but you better get out of my face," she ground out furiously, her hands now firmly planted on her hips. "I'm sick and tired of being accused of helping Grace hide, and you more than anyone else knows I'd do anything to get Grace back home so I can't believe you've got the nerve to stand in my face and say otherwise!"

The determined blonde was glaring up at him like she wanted to spit in that condescending face he had shoved in hers, and Eric wanted to strangle Sookie where she stood. "Sookie . . . I will tolerate just about anything from you, except two things – cheating and dishonesty – and no way is the woman I plan to marry going to stand in front of me and just flat out lie!" he grated out. "Now Nuada called me not thirty minutes ago asking me how Grace could've come in contact with someone in New Orleans named Amelia, and the answer is out of your mouth! He thinks Amelia is helping her hide – which means you're helping her hide!"

Sookie gasped and her mouth fell open. "Eric Northman, how dare you accuse me of such a thing! Lying? You better be kidding!" she hissed. "Grace called me and asked me for Amelia's e-mail address and I gave it to her, but she didn't tell me what for, and you know I would never do anything to help Grace hide! Now there's got to be more to it than that – what does Nuada think Amelia's done to help Grace?"

"I don't know, and he doesn't either!" Eric growled. "We were hoping you did, which is why I'm standing here! What the fuck would Grace want with a damn witch? And why the hell am I just hearing about this anyway? Why didn't you tell me when Grace called you, huh? Why did I have to hear it from Nuada instead of my fiancée?"

"Well I'm afraid I missed your memo telling me I was supposed to start reporting to you what's said during my phone conversations with Grace!" Sookie snapped back. "And if Nuada wants to call you and start crap over something Grace and I talked about, then maybe he needs to start doing a little talking himself! 'Cause I have yet to hear any reasonable explanation for Grace leaving, and I know there's loads to this that's being kept secret to me . . . so if ya'll are expecting me to start fessing up everything she says to me, then somebody better start talking and tell me why Grace left in the first place! And so help me Eric . . . if I find out that you know what's behind this and hid it from me because you're friends with Nuada, I won't be your fiancée anymore."

Eric stiffened. "That is nothing to threaten me with, Sookie," Eric warned seriously.

"That's not a threat, Eric . . . it's a promise," Sookie spat back. "Lying is a two way street, and it's just as easy for you to lie to me as it would be for me to lie to you! So like I said, you need to get out of my face!"

No – what Eric needed was to get Grace home, because while it certainly wasn't easy for him to lie to Sookie, he'd been doing it for months now. He knew from the beginning what Niall was doing to Grace, and he knew that's why she ran – but those were two things he had no intentions of Sookie Stackhouse finding out about, and the key to controlling that information, was controlling that human. Eric Northman needed Grace to return, safely and soon.

Without another sound, Eric jerked away and headed back to the Corvette, but Sookie was after him instantly, grabbing hold of a thick muscled arm and pleading for him to stop. "Eric, please don't leave this way . . . I don't want to fight, I'm just sick of all the questions since Grace left . . . Now tell me what you're planning to do! Talk to me!"

"If you can not, or do not intend to tell me what Amelia's involvement is with Grace, then I intend to find out for myself," Eric answered matter-of-factly, his stride never faltering as he walked away.

Suddenly frightened for her friend, Sookie ran in front of him to plaster herself against the driver's side door, frantically begging Eric to stop and talk to her, knowing what Nuada was willing to do if it meant finding Grace. "Don't you dare take Nuada to see Amelia! He'll hurt her Eric, and as much as I want Grace back, that isn't going to help anything . . . I swear Eric, if he hurts her, I will never speak to you again – never!"

Eric stopped about a foot short of Sookie, arms crossed over his chest as he calmly considered how cute she looked pressed up against his car that way. God he wanted to fuck her on the hood, and he just loved the way those tight Merlotte's t-shirts looked stretched across her nice, rounded boobs and how those snug little jean shorts crawled up her ass when she walked fast. Without a word, he swooped down and kissed her, causing butterflies to swarm in her stomach as his tongue plundered her mouth until her knees went weak.

She was like putty when he lifted his head, and Eric knew it. He smiled softly. "For you lover, I would do anything, and you have my word Amelia won't be hurt if she cooperates, but I promise you, she will tell us what she knows of Grace." Sookie started to protest, but Eric stifled it with another kiss. "Get back before Sam starts yelling, and I have to go in there and talk to him again," he whispered softly, releasing her. "I'll be over later."

Sookie blushed, knowing what that meant, but she was still scared for Amelia, and that was the only reason she went back inside. She wasn't stupid. Eric was being polite, but that vampire was about to piss himself to be rid of her and call Nuada - and she knew it. "Alright Eric, I'll see you later," she told him slyly, the gleam in her eyes letting him know he'd be crawling through the window to get in her house again tonight just for spite.

Eric smiled and watched Sookie bounce back inside, appreciatively taking in every quiver and jiggle from the rear view, but the second that bar door slammed shut, his grin was gone. Jerking his phone out, he was calling Nuada before he even got the car door open, but he wasn't the only one making a call. Sookie had just gone tearing down the rear hall of Merlotte's like a cat with a firecracker tied to it's tail to lock herself in the bathroom with her own cell phone, calling Amelia to warn her.

Sookie spent the next fifteen minutes pacing the bathroom of Merlotte's, waving her arms and ranting to Amelia that she better listen, but the dense little witch didn't. Amelia didn't seem the least bit concerned about Eric Northman and some elf showing up on her doorstep later that night. Matter of fact, she thought the whole idea was just funny as hell and she laughed at Sookie, aggravating her friend to no end. Sookie finally got so mad, she hung up on her. She loved Amelia, but if the girl insisted on being plain ignorant, then she'd just have to take what was coming . . . and it was definitely coming . . . sooner than she realized because in the back parking lot of Merlotte's, Eric's call had gone a little differently than Sookie's had.

Nuada's phone rang incessantly after Eric dialed it, but the guardian never answered – he materialized – right in the passenger seat of that Corvette just as Eric started backing out of the parking lot. Now Eric fully expected to be seeing Nuada shortly, but that sure as hell wasn't the way he had it planned, and the startled vampire damn near jumped out of his pretty pale skin. Suddenly he was the one plastered against the driver's side door, only his tight t-shirt didn't look nearly so cute as Sookie's had.

Transformed into a twisted scramble of long legs and arms wrapped around a steering wheel, Eric sat there yet again contemplating just how very wrong it was that those freaking elves and fairies could do that shit . . . and how much he wanted to strangle Nuada. He'd just about knocked himself out he banged his head on the window so hard, and Eric threw the car into park, and turned a burning gaze toward his friend. "You and me? We've got to talk about you and this car . . . because lately it seems you've got a real thing for red Corvette's. If you like it so much, just ask and I'll gladly give you the damn thing. You don't have to keep popping by just to visit it!"

Nuada didn't answer. Endless experience was helping him maintain a perfectly blank expression, although his eyes danced with humor as he took in the sight of Eric Northman reduced to a spaghetti like tangle of black clothes and long limbs stuck to a car door like a bumper sticker . . . it seemed oddly fitting after what he'd been subjected to earlier, and if he hadn't been there for such a serious reason, he would've been laughing like a hyena.

"Well?" Eric hissed, straightening himself then turning to take a close look at Nuada, wondering where in hell that strange smell was coming from. There was yet another perfect little dead crustacean clinging to his hair along with a few streaks of cocktail sauce, and the vampire reached over to pick it out, staring at the shrimp in disbelief. Now he was the one struggling to keep that frozen vampire face intact, because he could only imagine the story behind that! "Do I need to take you inside and feed you before we leave, or do you want to tell me what you did to piss her off this time?"

Nuada was cursing in at least three languages Eric recognized when that Corvette slung gravel across Sam's parking lot, two heads of blond hair whipping in the wind as they lit up the road between Bon Temps and Shreveport with the windows down to air out the shrimp stink rapidly fermenting in the hot Louisiana night air. Soon enough Nuada settled down and shut up, hanging on every word as Eric took up where he left off, griping about Sookie's mistake then spewing information about Amelia like an FBI informant.

It wasn't long before they tore up behind Fangtasia and Pam waved to them brightly as Eric jerked the Corvette to a halt, but they never even waved back. The second Eric put that car in park, Nuada touched his shoulder and they were gone, instantly shifted to an attractive New Orleans courtyard surrounding a white two-story apartment building, with dark green shutters and thick landscaping. It was here in the bottom floor apartment that Sookie's witch friend lived, so slipping through the darkness, the odd pair quickly navigated cobblestone walks and wrought-iron railings to stand on her front stoop.

The girl they sought was Amelia - a somewhat powerful though misguided witch who'd stayed with Sookie for several months after fleeing her coven when she accidentally turned her date into a cat one night. Thankfully, poor Bob recovered after the coven leader - a much more powerful witch named Octavia - showed up to help. Having some rather negative past experiences with witches himself, Eric had avoided them like the plague, but he was still intimately familiar with their activities through stories he'd heard from both Sookie and the former Queen of Louisiana . . .

In cooperation with several other coven members, those two witches actually recreated the death of Sookie's cousin several years prior. Haley was the third known great-grandchild of Lord Niall, and prior to her death, she lived in the apartment above Amelia's, and as Eric stood on her stoop, he couldn't help but note how utterly peculiar it was that the same unfortunate little witch was again involved in a very negative situation involving a descendant of Niall Brigant - although Eric and the creature standing beside him certainly intended for Grace's outcome to be far different.

To their credit, Octavia and Amelia didn't know what they were getting involved in when they agreed to help Grace. Her plea for assistance was answered simply as a tribute to Sookie, honoring the pretty blonde who'd been so kind to them after the hurricane decimated New Orleans, providing them with a safe place to stay, and a comforting ear to listen. And to Sookie's credit, she didn't either - Grace had been very secretive when she asked her cousin to put her in touch with Amelia, not telling her cousin about the magical little piece of parchment paper she found in Haldir's cloak. Naive to the situation Grace was in, and desperate for Grace to return, Sookie hadn't pressed for answers, she simply passed along Amelia's e-mail address, assuming Grace had a question about that ring.

If Sookie Stackhouse had known the real reason Grace wanted to talk to Amelia, she sure as hell wouldn't have put them in touch with each other, but she did, and Grace seized the opportunity, emailing the witch a single question - What can be done with this spell? And Amelia did her best to answer it. The coven had never seen anything like that elven incantation before, but it didn't take much experimentation to discover just what a priceless jewel Grace accidentally found on that little piece of ancient parchment paper. It was the most powerful conjuration any witch in New Orleans had ever encountered - a blocking spell that could ward off any competing spell, protecting it's owner from any assault or prying – and in exchange for Grace's generous offer that they keep it and use it so much as they'd like, they were more than happy to e-mail her back with creative suggestions for its use:

 _The spell will protect any object it is placed upon, so inscribe it upon the object you wish to guard, and play with it just as we have . . . it seems to provide limitless protection, and if you possess enough strength, with practice, you may be able to manipulate it, bending it to your will . . . try it on your car, your house . . . you could even try it on yourself **snicker**_

Too bad Amelia didn't take that advice and use it for herself, or bother to listen to Sookie's warning on the telephone. Gandalf's cloaking spell could've hidden her from Nuada and Eric that night, and prevented the surprise visitors that were now standing on her stoop . . . but then surprises were going around tonight, and Sookie Stackhouse was going to get one too.

Completely flustered after her argument with Eric and unproductive conversation with Amelia, Sookie decided piss on work, and headed home. Tired to the bone, she'd taken an endless scorching hot shower, scrubbing every inch to remove the grease lingering on her skin, then staying there until the water got cold. She'd just climbed out and begun toweling the water from her hair when the frustrated girl realized she had company. Thankfully, it wasn't another man come to interrogate her about Grace - it was Claudine, her fairy god-mother – but that was almost as surprising itself. Claudine's visits had slowed as Sookie grew closer to Lord Niall, then nearly evaporated after she became romantically entangled with then ultimately engaged to Eric, so Sookie knew if that fairy was sprawled out across her bed, something was most definitely up.

Amazing beautiful as always, the fairy who aspired to be an angel was laying casually at the end of Sookie's bed, her long dark hair flowing in perfect waves down her back, the graceful plum outfit she wore immaculate as always. "Sookie, sweetheart what have you managed to get yourself into this time?" Claudine asked gently, genuinely concerned. Lord Niall himself had commanded she go there, demanding she speak with Sookie regarding Grace. Too impatient to wait on Nuada to collect information from Eric Northman and a New Orleans witch, the fairy lord hoped Claudine could gently coerce some information from his other great-grandchild that would help explain tonight's confusion and lead to Grace's safe return.

Throwing on some pajamas, Sookie plopped on the bed, picking the frayed edges of the oddly shaped cotton fabrics that made up her favorite quilt, wishing everyone would just go away. Thursday nights were always long and tiresome at Merlotte's, the drunks had been predictably obnoxious, Eric had been a complete jackass, and now she worried Nuada was going to either hurt or kill one of her good friends. It was a huge swirl of emotions that needed no company, but now after months of no contact, Claudine was suddenly perched in her face - something that earned the fairy the least friendly look she'd ever received from her human ward. Sookie was too polite to tell Claudine to get out, so she tried to silently convey her intentions of taking some damn Tylenol and going to bed by glaring. It didn't work.

Those imploring almond shaped eyes were telling Sookie that wasn't an option, so after a few deep breaths and a trip to the bathroom for those Tylenol, Sookie flopped down, hugging a pillow and telling Claudine everything she knew of Grace's story. It wasn't much, but it didn't take long for Sookie to know from the strange look growing in those soft brown eyes that her fairy-godmother had gotten a very different version of things from her great-grandfather. "I don't know what happened, but I could hear her in my mind," Sookie told the fairy as she neared the end of her tale. "Grace screamed for hours, and when I saw her again, she was terrified . . . almost like she was running for her life. Now you have to tell me Claudine . . . would Nuada hurt someone he was trusted to be guardian over? Or would my great-grandfather actually do something to hurt my cousin?"

They were very pointed questions, and they were questions Claudine was in no position to answer. She was there to collect information - not provide it - and as she sat there, her face creased into the deepest, most palpable frown Sookie had ever seen on her beautiful face. It caused Sookie to become increasingly alarmed, and her eyes grew increasingly bigger while Claudine blatantly procrastinated, refusing to answer her. "Claudine, why aren't you talking to me?" Sookie finally exclaimed, prodding her. "Claudine?"

"I know Nuada," she answered softly, her voice careful, but still full of concern. "He is quite powerful, and certainly not one to be disregarded. If that creature wants to find Grace, rest assured he will hunt her to the ends of the earth and bring her back, but I cannot imagine that he would harm her – not in light of who she is, and not from what you have told me of them. I'll admit, I didn't believe it possible that Amarande Nuada could find the ability to care for another, but perhaps time has softened his heart. I would love to think so." She smiled as she said it, the fairy in her forcing her to see the best in people always.

It was a small relief, but Sookie was not oblivious to the fact that Claudine did not answer all of her questions. The imploring stare down continued, as Sookie twisted that quilt tighter and tighter in her nervous hands, and the gorgeous fairy met it gently with her amazing soft brown eyes, patting Sookie reassuringly on the arm. "Stop being so negative and worrying that pretty little head of yours! I have never known of my grandfather to hold anything but love for any of his family, and I know in my heart, he would never, ever allow Grace to be harmed."

Sookie let out a huge sigh of relief, smiling as Claudine sprang from the bed. "I don't know what I shall tell My Lord, but I shall think of something. You honestly don't know where your cousin is or what has taken place with Amelia, so I do not know what else he can expect from you. So for now, let us remain positive and trust that Nuada will succeed in bringing Grace home."

Passing Sookie a final compassionate look, Claudine disappeared, leaving Sookie to lay in bed sleeplessly worrying for her friend. She was positive Eric would take Nuada to New Orleans tonight, and indeed she was correct, because at that very instant, Eric was beginning to pound on Amelia's front door.

The unsuspecting witch sleepily dragged herself from the couch and headed for the door, but as she drew closer, suddenly Sookie's words of warning from earlier came tearing through her mind. Realizing perhaps she should have paid closer attention to her friend's phone call, Amelia tiptoed closer and peeked through the tiny peephole, her mouth falling open when she saw Eric Northman himself standing on her doorstep, along with a stunningly handsome blond man she'd never seen before.

The very aura seeping around the doorframe cracks was steeped in death, and Amelia started to run for cover, but Eric's voice came cutting through the silence. "Open it, Amelia. We know you're there."

Terrified, she hesitated, but she knew that a vampire could not come in her house without invitation, and she also knew her home was protected by many spells which she felt would take care of the other one. Opening the door, she glared at them coldly. "You can't come in," she declared firmly, but Nuada simply brushed past her and walked right in. Amelia frowned in disgust, popping her hands on her hips in the way she'd absorbed from Sookie during their time together, but she never got one word out. The second she locked eyes with Nuada, those glimmering green orbs instantly hypnotized her.

"It would be rude to disrespect my friend. You should invite him in," Nuada commanded, his voice beautiful as it floated on the hot night air, almost like music enthralling her to obey.

"Come in Eric, so nice to see you again," Amelia offered in a strange voice, not even looking away from Nuada as the vampire glided into her den, closing the door behind him.

"We mean you no harm, Amelia," Nuada told her softly, continuing to stare deep into her eyes. "I simply wish to know what information you provided to the cousin of Sookie Stackhouse – Laurel Grace. You communicated with her on your computer."

Amelia stood in the middle of that room completely transfixed by both the sexual aura seeping from the very pores of the powerful creature in front of her, and at the hypnotic sound of his voice. "I did Grace a favor," she whispered, wanting nothing more than for Nuada to keep talking to her, to keep staring at her with those beautiful eyes.

"Yes, and I would very much like to know what that favor was, so please write down exactly the information you gave to her. Tell me Amelia, tell me everything," Nuada encouraged, but she already was because he was playing with Amelia's mind like a kid with Playdough. Primitive human protection spells weren't worth the breath used to speak them against that powerful creature, and he was ripping through her thoughts even as he was speaking to her.

Amazed by what Nuada was doing, Eric watched with curiosity as the witch did exactly as she was told. Walking over to the counter, Amelia got out a piece of paper, and dutifully wrote down every word contained in the return e-mail she sent to Grace. She seemed almost in a trance when she finished, standing there smiling as she handed Nuada the piece of paper, patiently waiting to see what else he wanted from her.

"You are most kind, Amelia," Nuada purred in that strange accent, erasing her memories even as they were talking. "Now go to sleep Amelia . . . sleep and have wonderful dreams."

The befuddled human obediently headed down the hall toward her bedroom, and with one touch the two men were gone, reappearing in Eric's Corvette. Short of a headache, Amelia wasn't going to remember any of this night because the very instant Nuada disappeared, all traces of the spell were gone, erased from her memory forever - and soon to be erased from the other witch's minds by the additional fairy guardians who were even now swooping silently into bedrooms all across New Orleans to clean up this mess. In exchange for their assistance, Grace may have offered them the use of that elven incantation, but unfortunately for them, that payment was being rescinded compliments of Niall Brigant and Amarande Nuada. More unfortunate though, was the fact that Grace had already taken their advice to heart . . . and the object she intended to inscribe that spell on was her very own flesh.


End file.
